IMAGE  EVALUATION 
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1.0 


I.I 


■  45 


111 


|40 


12.2 


12.0 


1.8 


1.25      1.4 

1.6 

„ 6"     - 

► 

V] 


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/2 


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fi: 


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Photographic 

Sdences 

Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

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0 


A 


CIHM/ICMH 

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CIHIVI/ICMH 
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Canadian  Institute  for  Historicai  IVIicroreproductions 


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1980 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


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la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

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cas:  le  symbols  — ^  signifie  "A  SUIVRE  ".  le 
symbols  V  signifie  "FIN". 

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filmAs  A  des  taux  de  reduction  diffdrents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
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et  de  haut  en  bas.  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  n6cessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  m6thode. 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

THE  WORKS 


OF 


HUBERT  HOWE  BANCROFT 


THE    WORKS 


OF 


HUBERT  HOWE  BANCROFT 


VOLUME   XXXVIII 


ESSAYS  AND   MISCELLANY 


SAN    FRANCISCO 
THE   HISTORY  COMPANY,  PUBLISHERS 

1890 


Kiitored  iiwordinB  to  Act  of  Congress  in  the  Your  1890,  by 

HUBERT   H.  BANCROFT, 
lu  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Wasliington. 


Alt  li'uihts  Reserved. 


CONTENTS   OF   THIS    N^OLUME. 
CHAPTER  I. 

TlIK   KARI.Y    AMERICAN   CIIRONICLERM,     1 

CHAPTER   II. 

TIIK   NKW   C'lVILIZATFON, 3g 

CHAPTER   III. 

ROOT   UIUHKRH  AND  GOLD   DIOUERS 54 

CHAPTER  IV. 

OITU  TREATMENT  OF  THE   NATIVB    RACES 65 

CHAPTER  V. 

HISTORY   WRITINO yg 

CHAPTER   VI. 
i;riticism, 2  j3 

CHAPTER  VII. 

WORK j4g 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

BAITRE   LE   FER  SUR   l'ENCLUME Ig5 

CHAPTER  IX. 

WCIAL   ANALYSIS 2g2 

CHAPTER  X. 

NATION-MAKING, .jQg 


vl  CONTKNTS. 

(HAPTKR   XI.  PAOE. 

I'WO  HIIIKS   OK   A    VK.X  KD   f^lKSTION, 2.<5 

CIIAPTKK   Xll. 

n.K  ,H  Kv  svsr.M 280 

CHAPTKlt    XriT. 

MONOOLIANISM   IV  AMERinA 309 

CHAPTER   XIV. 

410 

MONKV    AN1>   MONOI'OLY, 

CHAPTER   XV. 

LITEKATUKK   «»K  CKNTKAL   AMEUKA '*''•' 

CHAPTER   XVI. 

LITERATITRE   OK  COLONIAI.   MEXICO ^^l 

CHAPTER  XVH. 

MTERATUKE   OF   MEXICO    ItUKINd    THE    I'ltESENT   CENTHKY 537 

CHAPTER   XVni. 

EARLY   CALIFORNIA    LITERATURE ^91 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

PLATO    REVISED ^^^ 


i 


FAnE, 

. .    2:<r) 


..,.     280 


ESSAYS 


309 


AND 


MISCELLANY 


..     419 


455 


481 


537 


591 


669 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  EARLY  AMERICAN  CHRONICLERS 

Pacts  can  be  accurately  known  to  us  only  by  the  most  rigid  observation 
ana  sustained  and  scrutinizing  scepticism 

— Froude 

In  the  North  American  Review  for  April,  1870,  ap- 
pear(!(l  an  article  by  Lewis  H.  Morgan  entitled  "  Mon- 
tezuma's Dinner,"  in  which  the  writer  attempts  to 
show  that  the  native  nations  of  Central  and  South 
America  were  not  so  far  advanced  in  culture  as  ftom 
tlie  evidence  of  priests  and  conquerors  we  have  been  led 
to  suppose,  were  not  indeed  so  far  advanced  as  the  Iro- 
quois and  some  other  northern  tribes.  As  Mr  Mor- 
gan takes  for  his  text  the  second  volume  of  my  Na- 
tive Races  of  the  Pacific  States,  treating  of  the  aboriginal 
civilization  of  the  Mexican  and  Central  American 
table-lands;  and  as  his  remarkable  hypotheses  affect 
not  alone  the  quality  of  American  aboriginal  culture, 
but  the  foundations  of  early  American  history,  and 
indeed  of  all  historic  evidence;  and  as  among  his  dis- 
iples  are  found  several  popular  writers  disseminating 
ihese  erroneous  ideas,  I  deem  it  not  out  of  place  to 
v3xpress  my  views  upon  the  subject. 

I  shall  not  attempt  the  elucidation  of  Mr  Morgan's 
theories,  which  run  through  voluminous  and  somev/hat 


a  THE  EARLY  AMERICAN  CITROXirLERS. 

turbid  writin<j;H,  and  whicli  liave  been  brou<j;ht  into 
some  dt'greo  of  notice,  nion;  by  tiic  persistent  energy 
of  tbo  author  tluin  by  any  able  arguments  or  convin- 
cing proofs.  I  have  noticed  tliat  not  every  originator 
or  supportt^r  of  a  theory  liolds  to  one  belief  tlirough- 
out  the  entire  course  of  liis  investigations,  or  can  him- 
self explain  exactly  what  he  thinks  he  believes. 

The  Morgan  hypothesis  adoj)ts  a  distinction  of  its 
own  as  to  what  constitutes  a  Siivage  or  a  civilized  na- 
tion, in  which  rise  jirominent  the  systems  of  kinsliip, 
conspicuous  in  particular  among  the  Iroquois  and 
Ojibways,  together  with  plurality  of  wives  and  com- 
nmnity  of  property,  as  tests  of  a  former  grade.  Con- 
vinced that  the  American  nations  all  belong  to  one 
family,  Mr  IVIorgan  assumes  that  their  various  insti- 
tutions nmst  be  })ractically  identical,  and  that  the  so- 
cial customs  of  extinct  tribes  may  be  best  learned,  not 
fi'oni  the  statements  of  men  who  wrote  from  actual 
observation,  but  from  the  studv  of  existing  tribes. 
Himself  familiar  with  the  Iroquois,  and  to  some  ex- 
tent with  other  northern  tribes,  he  arbitrarily  aj»plies 
the  tribal  organization  of  the  Iroquois,  of  gentes,  plira- 
tries,  tribes,  and  confederations  to  the  nations  of  Mex- 
ico and  Central  and  South  America,  thus  making 
savages  of  all  the  hihabitants  of  the    wo  Americas. 

With  Mr  Morgan's  theory  I  have  nothing  to  do.  I 
cannot  see  that  it  alters  the  facts  regarding  the  cul- 
ture, the  intellectual  and  social  conditions  of  the  in- 
habitants of  the  Mexican  and  Central  American 
table-lands  whether  they  are  called  savage  or  civilized, 
esjiecially  by  those  whose  conception  of  the  meaning  of 
these  words  is  peculiar,  or  at  least  quite  different  from 
that  of  the  foremost  scholars  of  the  day.  What  alone 
interests  me  in  this  connection  is  the  effect  of  such 
teachings  on  popular  estimates  of  historical  evidence, 
particularly  as  touching  the  early  American  chroni- 
clers. Not  that  the  teachings  of  Mr  Morgan  himself 
could  exercise  any  great  popular  influence  anywhere ; 
but  there  is  a  class  of  writers  for  the  million,  who 


f  i 

i 


THE  MORGAN  THEORY. 


flit  in  the  aunshine  of  public  favor,  in  the  bordcrhind 
between  fact  and  fancy,  caring  less  for  the  truth  of 
what  they  say  than  for  thouianner  in  which  it  is  said, 
and  tiie  money  that  conies  to  them  in  consetjucnce. 

Men  of  tliis  stamp  have  taken  up  the  Morgan  theory, 
and  by  pretending  that  there  is  more  in  it  than  ever 
the  autlior  himself  dreamed  of,  have  exercised  a  most 
})ernicious  influence  over  the  popular  mind,  succeeding 
at  one  time  in  attracting  to  themselves  considerable 
attention.  They  claimed  that  the  literary  and  moim- 
ipental  remains  of  the  Aztecs,  Mayas,  aiid  IMound- 
l>uilders  might  now  be  translated  by  skillful  students  ; 
that  a  clew  to  the  labyrinths  of  race  and  origin  haa 
bien  found  ;  that  conjecture  in  this  direction  had  be- 
gun for  science  a  new  era,  and  that  there  nniains 
little  affecti)ig  American  archa;olf)gy  which  the  w 
theory  will  not  make  plain.  For  not  one  of  these 
statements  was  Lii.ie  any  foundation  in  fact  or  reason . 

They  even  went  further  to  astonish  the  woild,  by 
asserting  that  the  early  American  annals  are  by  the 
light  of  this  new  theory  transformed,  and  to  a  great 
extent  annulled,  the  eyes  of  the  first  comers  having 
deceived  them;  that  the  aboriginal  culture,  its  arts, 
literature,  sciences,  polities,  and  religions,  mean  not 
these,  but  other  things,  as  is  clearly  shown  by  the 
"new  interpretation,"  and  that  the  tales  of  the  con- 
(juerors  nmst  accordingly  be  written  anew,  written 
and  read  by  this  new  transforming  light;  that  there 
never  was  an  Aztec  or  a  jNIaya  emiure,  but  only  wild 
tribes  leagued  like  the  northern  savayes:  that  Yuca- 
tan  never  had  great  cities,  nor  Montezuma  a  palace, 
but  that  as  an  ordinary  Indian  chief  this  personage 
liad  lived  in  the  communal  dwelling  of  his  tribe  ;  that 
wc  can  see  America  as  Cortes  saw  it,  not  in  the  words 
of  Cortes  and  his  companions,  or  in  the  monumental 
remains  of  the  south,  but  in  the  reflection  of  New 
Mexican  villages,  and  through  the  mental  vagaries 
of  one  man  after  the  annihilation  of  fact"  presented 
by  a  hundred  men. 


THE  EARLY  AMEr.ICAN  CHRONICLERS. 


All  that  was  seen  and  said  at  tlie  time  of  the  con- 
quest, and  all  that  has  since  been  seen  or  said  conflict- 
ing with  this  fancy,  is  illusion;  reasonable,  tangible 
evidence,  such  alone  as  could  be  accepted  by  unbiassed 
connnon-sensc,  was  not  admissible  if  conflicthig  with 
the  preconceived  idea.  I  was  surprised  that  such 
conceits  should  ever  assume  tangible  form  and  be  re- 
ceived  as  truth  by  any  considerable  nundx-r  of  scholars ; 
that  such  conceits  should  ever  be  disseminated  as  facts 
by  men  pretending  to  a  love  of  truth.  It  seems  some- 
what difficult  for  the  average  mind,  slowly  undergoing 
eternal  emancipation,  to  establish  the  true  relative 
values  of  learned  and  unlearned  ignorance.  In  the 
former  category  may  be  placed  all  those  unprovable 
s[)eculations  destined  to  end  whore  they  begin,  and 
which  so  largely  occupy  the  attention  of  tlie  human 
race.  And  so  loniX  as  tliose  wlio  assume  the  roles  of 
toacliers  present  tlieir  illusions  in  ])k'asing  forms,  with 
a  fah-  amount  of  dogmatic  assurance,  they  will  find 
listeners. 

In  the  present  instance  the  disciples  are  far  worse 
tlian  the  master.  I  fail  to  see  the  wisdom  of  tliiis 
attempting  to  sweep  from  tlie  face  of  tlie  earth  by 
mere  negation  all  persons  and  facts  op[)oshig  a  propo- 
sition. It  is  not  by  such  nu<ans  tliat  reasonable  h\- 
)>otheses  are  established;  blank  negation  never  yet 
overthrew  substantial  truth.  It  seems  a  long  leap, 
indeed,  from  a  theory  resting  on  a  trace  of  certain 
organizations  in  the  north,  to  an  arbitrary  conclusion 
that  the  Mayas  were  identical  in  their  institutions 
with  the  Pueblo  Indians,  (irant  the  fundanuMital 
doctrine,  and  there  is  yet  a  wide  distance  between 
Zuhi  and  TJxmal.  It  requires  a  vivid  imagination  to 
see  only  joint-tenement  structures  in  the  remains  at 
Palenque.  But  admitting  it,  the  radical  (hftennice  in 
plan,  architecture,  and  sculptured  and  stucco  decora- 
tions, to  employ  Morgan's  own  line  of  argument, 
suggests  a  corresponding  devtlojHncnt  and  im))rove- 
ment  in  other  institutions  and  arts,  which  would  hi- 


il 


FACTS  AND  FANCY. 


trocIucG  some  troublesome  variations  in  the  assumed 
identity  with  the  Pueblos  and  Iroquois,  even  if  all 
started  together.  The  Maya  hieroglyphs,  and  even 
certain  of  the  Aztec,  form  also  an  obstacle  by  no 
means  so  easily  removed.  True,  not  being  deciphered, 
their  actual  grade  cannot  be  positively  proved;  yet 
the  common  picture-writing  contains  enough  of  the 
phonetic  element  to  place  the  better  class  high  above 
tlie  line  fixed  by  the  new  transforminij  li<rht  as  the 
mark  of  civilization.  Even  by  this  briglit  illumuiation 
it  seems  scarcely  possible  to  reconcile  the  testimony 
of  existing  relics,  and  of  Spanish  witnesses  who  came 
into  contact  with  the  Maya  and  Nahua  nations,  with 
the  narrow  conclusions  of  sui>[)()rtersof  the  all-embrac- 
ing consanguinity.  In  the  earlier  life  of  the  hypothe- 
sis tlie  changes  to  what  are  called  descriptive  consan- 
guinity and  the  inheritance  of  property  were  made 
tests  of  civilization;  but  these  tests  were  aljandoni'd 
wlien  it  was  ascertained,  among  other  things,  that  the 
Aztecs  did  inlierit  personal  property,  and  to  a  certain 
extent  landed  estate. 

If  this  were  the  only  theory  ever  advanced  to  prove 
indemonstrable  propositions  regarding  the  Americans, 
it  might  be  more  imposing;  but  it  is  only  one  of  fifty, 
each  of  which  has  had  its  day  and  its  supporters, 
and  we  cannot  look  forward  with  any  degree  of  con- 
fidence to  the  fulfilment  of  promises  bailed  on  grounds 
so  weak  and  fictitious.  Nor  do  I  regard  such  inves- 
tigation  as  in  every  respect  beneficial;  on  the  con- 
trary, it  is  clearly  detrimental  wheu  facts  are  warped 
to  fit  theories,  the  theory  being  of  less  importance  to 
mankind  than  the  fact.  On  the  other  hand  it  is  true 
that  great  discoveries  have  sprung  from  apparently 
puerile  conceits ;  and  fact;,  are  sure  to  live,  however 
sometimes  distorted,  while  false  doctrines  are  sure  to 
die,  however  ably  presented. 

In  comm<m  with  all  such  suppositions,  the  paths  by 
which  the  advocate  reaches  his  conclusions  are  fuller 
of  iustruction  than  the  conclusions  themselves.    There 


6        THE  EARLY  AMERICAN  CHRONICLERS. 

is  something  of  instruction  in  the  nine  massive  fohos 
left  by  the  poor  demented  Lord  Kingsborough,  who 
greatly  desired  to  prove  the  American  Indians  Jews, 
though  he  was  not  one  whit  nearer  such  proof  at  the 
end  than  at  the  benj-imnng.  The  more  knovvledije  the 
learned  abbe  Brasseur  de  Bourbourg  brought  to  the 
subject  tlie  more  confused  he  became,  until  the  latter 
parts  of  his  labors  were  directed  toward  revising  his 
earlier  conjectures.  Such  a  course  appears  not  unusual 
with  theorists—from  the  doo;niatic  to  the  aruumenta- 
tive,  then  back  to  the  dogmatic  again,  forever  explain- 
hig  away  mistakes  and  falling  into  new  ones.  The 
eloquent  Robert  Mackenzie  is  still  in  the  first  stage 
of  dogmatism  when  with  a  glance  at  the  map  showing 
tlie  proximity  of  Asia  and  America  he  would  forever 
settle  the  question  of  origin.  Nor  is  the  strahiing  of 
modern  scientists  to  prove  Asiatic  intercourse  by 
sliipwrccked  Japanese  junks  at  all  necessary.  It  is  a 
well  established  fact  that  for  many  centuries  there  has 
been  free  intercourse  between  the  peoples  on  either 
side  of  Bering  strait,  botli  by  means  of  boats  and  by 
crossing  on  the  ice.  It  may  be  as  Mr  Morgan  says, 
though  his  arguments  appear  scarcely  more  convincing 
than  the  arguments  of  tliose  who  preceded  him,  or  of 
those  who  came  after  him.  Some  of  these  other 
theories  are  held  to-day;  grant  them  all — what  then? 
Grant  that  the  Americans  are  one  stock  with  the 
people  of  Asia,  Scandinavia,  or  Africa,  or  Armenia, 
there  still  remains  to  be  proven  whether  the  Old 
World  peopled  the  New,  or  the  New  the  Old ;  where 
stood  the  primordial  cradle  or  cradles  of  the  race ; 
where  man  was  first  made,  and  how  . 

The  fundamental  weakness  of  Mr  Mohan's  amu- 
mcnt  lies  m  the  glaring  distortion  of  evidence  to  sus- 
tain  it.  INIr  IMorgan  begins  by  telling  what  the  Span- 
ish conquerers  found  in  Mexico — not  what  they  them- 
selves reported  to  have  seen,  but  what  they  should  have 
seen  to  establish  the  'new  interpretation.'  This  being 
infallible,  the  Spanish  conquerors  did ,  not  see  what 


DOGMATIC  THEORIZING. 


thev  claimed.  It  may  be  immaterial  whether  wo  call 
the  Nail  uaculturosavagism  or  civilization, Montezuma's 
dwelling  a  palace  or  a  tenement  house,  himself  einpcx  or 
(»r  cacique,  and  his  subordinate  rulers  lords  or  chiefs; 
but  it  is  somewhat  presumptuous  for  Mr  Morgan, 
who  never  examined  the  monumental  remains  of  the 
Aztecs,  who  had  no  greater  o[)portunity  than  others 
of  studying  their  social  system,  and  who  in  fact 
never  knew  anything  about  it  except  upon  the  evi- 
dence of  the  very  witnesses  he  denounces  as  blind 
and  false,  sweepingly  to  assert,  in  order  to  extend  a 
preconceived  theory  over  all  the  nations  of  America, 
that  the  conquerors  were  mistaken,  that  they  could 
not  have  seen  what  they  thought  they  saw.  It  is 
the  old  lino  of  reasoning  cmph>yed  by  learned  super- 
sition  these  many  centuries ;  if  the  universe,  or  any 
part  of  it,  does  not  accord  with  the  doctrine,  so 
much  the  worse  for  the  universe,  which  nuist  there- 
upon be  reconstructed.  As  the  good  elder  of  one 
of  our  fashionable  churches  latelv  remarked,  "  If  the 
bible  affirmed  that  Jonah  swallowed  the  whale,  I 
should  believe  it." 

Without  advancing  adequate  evidence  to  show  the 
existence  of  his  systeniamong  the  Nahuas,  Mr  Morgan 
eii'jfa'jfes  in  saijo  discussions  concerning;  it,  transform- 
ing  by  the  light  of  the  new  interpretation  as  many 
of  the  new  facts  into  his  fancies  as  suits  his  purpose. 
In  doing  this,  he  allows  the  chroniclers  to  be  right  in 
whatever  they  say  supporting  his  views;  hi  all  such 
statements  as  oppose  his  system  they  were  in  error. 
It  was  indeed  a  transforming  light  that  enabled  this 
man  to  see,  not  being  present,  what  others  could  by 
no  means  perceive  though  they  were  on  the  ground; 
and  he  kindly  admits  that  the  early  histories  of 
Spanish  America  may  for  the  most  part  be  trusted, 
except  where  his  pet  project  is  touched. 

This,  thon,  is  my  opinion  of  the  ISIorgan  thoory. 
There  may  be  grounds  for  certain  of  its  suppositions 
in   certain   directions,    but   there   are   not   sufficient 


THE  EARLY  AMERICAN  CHRONICLERS. 


i    ! 


grounds  for  its  acceptance  as  affecting  the  nations  of 
the  Mexican  and  Central  A.nierican  table-lands.  In 
all  such  discussions  there  may  be  marshalled  many 
analogies,  some  of  tliem  remarkable  Nature  is 
everywhere  one;  the  nations  of  the  earth,  of  whatever 
origin,  are  formed  on  one  model  But  for  every  anal- 
ogy these  tlieorists  have  found,  their  predecessors  have 
found  a  score  of  analogies  in  support  of  some  other 
theory.  Analogy  presents  no  reliable  basis  for  prov- 
ing origin  or  race  migrations. 

In  looking  over  Mr  Morojan's  writinujs,  it  is  to  be 
noticed  tliat  traces  of  his  tests  to  prove  his  tlieories 
become  fainter  and  fainter  as  tlie  southern  and  more 
advanced  nations  are  approached.  His  attempt  to 
locate  the  ancient  Cibola  shows  no  small  lack  of  skill 
in  tlie  use  of  evidence.  Likewise,  though  more  dog- 
matical in  some  respects,  in  his  later  works  he  appa- 
rently relinquishes  in  some  degree  the  positions  which 
at  first  were  maintained  with  such  obsthiacy,  and 
spends  some  time  in  qualifying  some  of  the  more  pal- 
pable of  his  former  errors,  yet  still  insisting  in  ex- 
tending his  doctrhics  over  the  southern  plateaux. 

In  estimating  the  relative  advancement  of  peoples, 
some  standard  of  measurement  is  necessary.  The 
term  savage  and  civilized,  as  employed  by  various 
persons,  liave  widely  different  significations.  Proba- 
bly no  words  so  freely  used  are  so  little  understood. 
The  terms  are  usually  employed  to  designate  fixed 
conditions,  when  by  the  very  nature  of  things  such 
conditions  cannot  properly  be  applied  to  man. 

Mr  Morgan  classified  culture  periods  under  the 
categories  of  savagism,  barbarism,  an<l  civilization; 
to  emerge  from  tlie  first  of  which  there  should  be 
knowledge  of  fire,  fish  subsistence,  and  the  bow  and 
arrow ;  from  the  second,  pottery,  domestication  of  ani- 
mals, agriculture,  and  smelting  of  iron ;  and  to  attain 
full  civilization  a  phonetic  alphabet  was  necessary,  or 
use  of  hieroglyphs  upon  stone  as  an  equivalent. 


5 


ii 


SAVAGISM  AXD  CIVIUZA :  ION". 


This  may  have  been  a  convenient  arrangement  for 
his  purp»»se,  and  I  see  no  reason  wliy  lie,  and  all  v.'ho 
clioose,  sliould  not  employ  it.  But  surely  the  same 
right  should  be  accorded  others,  who  perchance  may 
find  another  classificatiim  convenient.  For  instance, 
one  might  wish  to  throw  Mr  Morgan's  three  divisions 
into  the  one  category  of  savagisni,  and  spread  the 
idea  of  civilization  upon  a  higher  plane;  for  surely 
our  present  highest  civilization  is  as  much  suitciior  to 
the;  condition  essential  to  admission  into  his  highest 
cliiss  as  his  highest  class  is  superior  to  his  lowest. 
Italian  son'jj;,  French  art,  (jlerman  letters,  Fn<>lish 
poc^try,  and  American  invention  are  certaudy  far 
enou'jh  in  advance  of  the  first  use  of  the  iihomtic 
alplial)et  to  entitle  such  accomplishments  to  a  new 
categorv. 

One  estimates  a  nation's  civilization  by  its  agri- 
culture;  another  by  its  manufactures;  others  by  the 
quality  of  its  religion,  morality,  literature,  or  politi- 
cal and  social  institutions.  Some  say  that  tillers  of 
the  soil  should  be  preferred  before  herders  of  cattle; 
some  hold  workers  in  iron  and  coal  above  workers 
in  gold  and  feathers;  some  place  pottery  in  advance 
of  sculpture;  the  fine  arts  before  the  industrial;  some 
compare  implements  of  war,  others  phonetic  ( harac- 
ters,  otheis  knowledu'e  of  the  movements  of  the 
heavenlv  bodies;  some  would  take  a  general  average. 

But  weighing  a  people's  civilization,  or  lack  t)f  it, 
by  any  of  these  standards,  yet  other  standards  are 
necessarv  bv  which  to  measure  pron'ress.  What  is 
meant  by  half  civilized,  or  quarter  civiliz' d,  or  wholly 
civilized?  A  1''df  civilized  nation  is  a  nation  half  as 
civilized  as  ours.  But  is  ours  civilized,  fully  <  ivilized  ? 
Is  there  ]io  higher  culture,  or  refinement,  or  Justice, 
or  humanity  in  store  for  nian  than  those  formed  on 
present  I'Airopean  models,  which  sanction  <(iercion, 
l)loo(ly  arbitrament,  international  robbery,  tlu'  exter- 
mination of  primitive  peoples,  and  hide  in  society 
under  more  comely  coverings  all  the  iniquities  of  sav- 


10 


THE  EARLY  AMERICAN   CHRONICLERS. 


Judging  from  tlie  past  and  the  presoiit  there 
is  yet  another  six  thousand,  or  sixty  thousand  years 
of  progress  for  man,  and  then  lie  may  be  still  a 
savage  compared  with  his  condition  at  the  end  of  the 
next  twelve  thousand  or  one  hundred  and  twenty 
thousfyul  years'  term.  Is  there  then  no  such  thing 
as  civilization  ^  Assuredly  not,  in  the  significance  of 
a  fixed  condition,  a  goal  attained,  a  ct)mplete  and 
perfcH'ted  idea  or  state.  Civilization  and  savagism 
are  relative  and  not  absolute  terms.  True,  tempoiary 
standards  have  to  be  adopted  at  different  stages  in 
history  for  the  sake  t)f  argument  and  elucidation; 
but  to  attempt  to  make  them  absolute  and  i>p['ly 
them  to  fixed  conditions  is  to  render  them  meaning- 
less, and  make  null  the  conditions  indicated.  The 
moment  the  man  ]>rimcval  kindles  a  fire,  or  employs 
a  crooked  stick  in  procuring  food,  he  has  entered  upon 
his  nev(!r  ending  progressional  journey;  he  is  no 
longer  wholly  and  primordially  savage.  The  terms 
being  riglitly  employed,  there  are  no  absolute  savages 
or  civilized  pet)[)lcs  on  the  earth  to-day;  and  when 
there  are  so  many  standards  by  which  })rogress  may 
])roperly  be  measured,  is  it  wise  to  warp  fundamental 
facts  in  dogmatically  thrusting  one  people  into  the 
category  of  half  civilized,  and  another  but  slightly 
different  into  that  of  one  quarter  savage?  We  might 
have  a  hundred  fixed  stages,  not  one  of  which  by  any 
possibility  could  be  so  defined  in  words  as  completely 
to  fit  any  one  of  the  millions  of  human  conditions. 
Howsoever  definite  an  idea  we  mav  have  of  that  end 
of  the  line  which  began  with  man,  of  the  other  which 
will  never  cease  spinning  until  the  last  human  being 
has  left  the  i)lanet,  we  can  have  no  conception.  For 
aught  we  know  it  may  not  stop  short  of  t)nmiscience. 
Civilization  is  an  mifolding,  and  dcveh)ps  mainly 
from  its  own  germ ;  it  is  not  a  superficial  acquisition, 
but  an  inward  growth,  even  if  nourished  by  extra- 
neous food.  You  may  whitewash  a  savage  with  your 
superiority,  but  you  cannot  civilize  him  at  once. 


AZTEC  CULTURE. 


11 


Whether  we  turn  to  the  extreme  eastern  kingdoms 
of  Asia,  or  to  the  region  watered  by  the  Euphrates 
and  tlio  Nile,  all  inhabited  since  the  remotest  historic 
past  by  races  of  acknowledged  culture,  everywhere  we 
iiiid  vast  differences  and  strong  })eculiarities  in  the 
respective  cultures,  developed  by  environment.  Some 
of  the  characteristics  are  of  a  high  order,  others  de- 
scend to  a  grade  of  actual  barbarism;  some  are  in 
course  of  develo])nient,  others  stationa/y^  or  even 
iitrogradhig.  The  Nahua  culture  partawes  of  the 
s.iine  traits,  fashioned  by  its  peculiar  environment. 
For  purposes  of  his  own,  Mr  Morgan  arbitrarily  de- 
scribes limits  to  what  is  called  civilization  in  order  if 
possible  to  i>revent  the  Nahuas  from  entering  its  pre- 
cincts. In  this  effort  he  ignores  many  distinctively 
liigher  traits  which  the  most  superficial  observer  nmst 
discover  amono'  the  southern  races;  he  chooses  to 
disregard  or  slight  the  very  distitict  evidences  of  not 
merely  settled  life,  but  of  settled  connnunities  uniler 
a  high  form  of  government,  with  advanced  institu- 
tions and  arts. 


I  will  present  briefly  some  facts  and  characteristics 
on  which,  according  to  my  conception  of  the  term, 
the  Nahuas  and  ^layas  may  justly  lay  claim  to  be 
called  civilized.  I  will  give  beforehand  the  proof  that 
these  traits  did  actually  exist  among  the  peo[)les  of 
the  Mexican  and  Central  American  table-lands  at  the 
time  of  their  conquest  by  the  Spaniards,  laying  before 
the  reader  the  principal  authorities  in  their  true  char- 
acter as  fully  as  I  am  able  to  discover  it,  with  all 
their  merits  and  demerits,  tlieir  veracity  and  men- 
dacity; making  as  close  and  critical  an  analysis  of 
their  writings  as  the  most  skeptical  could  desire.  I 
am  not  aware  of  any  special  dtsire  to  prove  the  pres- 
ence or  absence  of  a  civilization  in  this  instance.  If 
my  historical  writings  display  any  one  marked  pecu- 
liarity, it  is  that  of  a  critical  incredulity  in  respect  of 
both  Indian  and  Spanish  tales.     I  have  avoided,  so 


12 


THF,  EARLY  AMERICAN  CIIROXICLERS. 


:|J 


far  as  ])()SHil)lo,  placing  myself  in  a  position  where  I 
should  be  tempted  to  e.\aggerati\  I  have  no  theory 
to  advocate.  My  narrations  are  based  on  the  reports 
of  eye-witnesses  whose  characters  have  bi!<!n  studied, 
whose  education,  idiosyncrasies,  positions,  conditions, 
temper,  and  temptations  have  all  been  carefully  con- 
sidered in  weighing'  their  evidence,  and  tiie  results 
arc  so  given  that  the  reader  can  easily  form  conclu- 
sions of  his  own  if  minc^  do  not  satisfy  him. 

It  is  well  not  to  lose  sight  of  the  fact,  either  in  the 
present  investigation  or  in  using  the  writings  of  the 
chroniclers  as  historical  evidence  or  for  any  other  jmr- 
posc,  that  the  men  of  the  period  were  deceived  in  re- 
gard to  many  things,  but  that  it  is  not  difKcult  for  us 
to  jierceive  in  what  things  and  to  what  extent  they 
were  laboring  under  misap^  rehension.  All  men  and 
all  thiiii'S  are  to  a  certain  extent  deceivinijf,  even  to 
our  wiser  discrimination  of  to-day.  Classes  and 
cret^ls  are  given  to  misrepresentation  ;  either  intention- 
allv  or  unintentionallv,  the  false  colors  i)laced  before 
the  mind  of  man  in  the  beginning,  throuu;li  which 
alone  the  universe  and  whatever  it  contains  nuist  of 
necessity  be  viewed,  were  quite  different  in  diti'erent 
times  and  from  various  standpoints.  The  priest,  Ikjw- 
ever,  is  not  likely  wilfully  to  misrepresent  in  matters 
wherefrom  there  will  arise  no  benefit  either  to  him 
or  to  his  church  or  order.  And  so  with  the  soldier 
and  adventurer,  each  perha])s  jealous  of  the  other,  and 
ever  ready  to  contradict  any  false  statement  which 
will  lessen  his  own  importance  or  add  to  the  wealth 
or  ha})piness  of  one  he  hates. 

In  regard  to  aboriginal  testimony,  aside  from  that 
displayed  by  the  still  existing  n)aterial  remains,  I 
never  liave  placed  great  reliance,  although  on  no  better 
evitlenco  than  that  of  native  Aztec  writers,  and  abori- 
ginal traditions  in  existence  long  before  the  appearance 
in  the  country  of  Europeans,  Christianity,  mahomct- 
anism,  and  all  religions  pin  their  faith.  There  are 
some  able  scholars  and  investigators  of  the  present 


m 


ABORIGINAL  WllITIN'GS. 


18 


(lav  who  arc  confident  tliat  in  tlio  liioroijflypliks  of 
tho  Nuliuas  and  Alayas  will  ytt  be  found  the  key  to 
iiianv  invsteries,  aiiioiiij'  others  touidcnown  laniiuniirs, 
to  kinshl[>  with  tlie  ]']gyptians,  Cliahleaiis,  or  other 
peoples,  and  to  the  routes  and  pur})o.se.s  of  the  great 
migrations  of  the  earth  ;  but  there  has  as  3et  ai»p('ared 
no  evidence  whatever  to  base  any  such  ex})eetations 
upon.  Towards  deciphering  the  picture  writings  (;f 
the  aboriginal  peoples  of  the  ^Texican  and  Central 
American  table-lands,  little  or  no  advance  has  betii 
made.  Nevertheless,  there  were  anioni;  t\\v  native 
nations  inhal/iting  this  region  prior  to  the  coiupiest 
wise  ;ind  al)le  men,  who,  after  the  Spaniards  ha<l  come, 
and  they  had  learned  the  languag(M»f  the  con([uerors, 
fianseribed  much  of  their  aboi'iginal  history  from  tlu; 
original  hieroglyphics  into  Spanish,  and  there  is  no 
leasoii  why  we  may  not  as  well  believe  the  more  evi- 
dent truths  contained  in  these  writings,  jiarticularly 
such  po)'tions  as  we  have  at  hand  collateral  evideiitH' 
to  sustain,  as  credit  anvthino;  found  in  anv  aneient 
writings,  sacred  or  [)rofanc.  Even  tliough  tin'  state- 
ments recorded  in  tlieseaboriginal  books  are  all  tlnown 
into  the  cateiiorv  of  mvtholoov,  there  is  still  evidence 
of  a  well-advanced  culture  in  the  bare  abilitv  to  ori- 
<''inate,  entertain,  and  n^cord  such  ideas.  The  measure 
of  their  civilization,  which  is  the  jjroniinent  point  at 
issue  in  the  present  instance,  is  to  a  ceitain  extent 
determined  by  the  character  and  ([uality  ot"  their  writ- 
ings, whether  true  or  false.  L(  t  every  word  of  the 
Uiad  bo  untrue,  Homer  would  not  therefore  be  termed 
a  savage.  It  seems  supertluous  to  attempt  to  prove 
the  validity  of  the  early  chroniclers.  jVJr  Morgan's 
sino'ular  position  would  not  be  worth  v  of  notice  but 
that  his  statements  have  proved  misleading  to  othcis. 
Imagine  the  history  of  thcconipiest  written  from  the 
Morgan  standpoint.  The  story  might  be  told  based  on 
tlic  authority  of  the  chroniclers — it  can  never  other- 
wise be  written;  but  all  that  they  r(>port  in  any  way 
conflicting  with  the  preconceived  idea  must  be  thrown 


m\ 


U 


THE  KARLY  AMERICAN  CHRONICLERS. 


out  or  explained  away.  Imagine  my  account  of  the 
aborigines  announced  as  A  Description  of  the  Naticc 
Races  of  North  America^  founded  on  such  parts  of 
existimj  Spanish  Testinioni/,  and  on  such  Material 
Relics  as  seem  to  agree  with  the  researches  of  Leir/s 
jr.  Morrjan  among  the  Iro(/uois  of  Xcw  York!  If, 
after  the  evidence  in  the  [>re.sent  instance  is  fully 
j^nven,  the  reader  prefers  denoniinatinjjf  the  peoj^les 
I'cferrcd  to  as  savages  or  satyrs,  I  have  not  the 
slightest  objection. 

With  tlie  first  expedition  to  Mexico  went  two  men 
by  the  name  of  Diaz,  one  a  priest  and  the  other  a 
soldier.  Both  wrote  accounts  of  what  they  saw,  thus 
giving  us  at  the  outset  narratives  from  ecclesiastical 
and  secular  standpoints.  It  was  a  voyage  along  the 
coast;  they  did  not  penetrate  the  interior.  Observa- 
tion being  general,  the  descriptions  arc  general.  There 
was  nothing  remarkable  about  the  priest;  ho  was  not 
particularly  intelligent  or  honest.  I  see  no  reason  to 
doubt  the  commonplace  incidents  of  the  voyage  as 
given  in  the  Itinerario  de  Grijalva.  The  towns,  with 
tlieir  white  stone  buildings  and  temple-towers  glisten- 
ing in  the  foliage,  remind  him  of  Seville;  when  he 
mentions  a  miracle  which  happens  at  one  of  then», 
we  know  he  is  not  telling  the  truth.  Indeed,  an 
experienced  judge  can  almost  always  arrive  at  the 
truth  even  if  the  evidence  comes  only  from  the 
mouths  of  Ij'ing  witnesses,  provided  he  can  examine 
them  apart.  Where  the  evidence  is  abundant,  the 
judge  soon  knows  more  of  the  facts  of  the  case  than 
any  one  witness,  and  can  easily  discern  the  true  state- 
ments from  the  false.  But  on  the  whole,  the  priest 
Juan  Diaz  was  quite  moderate  in  his  descriptions  of 
what  we  know  from  other  sources  to  have  been  there. 

The  same  evidence  is  offered  in  the  Ilistoria  Ver- 
dadera  of  Bernal  Diaz,  who  attended  not  only  on  this 
vo3'age,  but  on  the  first  and  succeeding  expeditions; 
all  is  plain,  unvarnished,  and  devoid  of  coloring.  If 
hyperbole  was  ever  to  be  employed  it  should  be  in 


DL\Z,  TERRAZAS. 


15 


connection  with  the  revelation  of  these  first  startlini^ 
evidences  of  a  new  art  and  a  stranj^e  race.  But  the 
enthusiasm  of  the  autlior  becomes  marked  only  as  he 
ascends  later  with  Cortes  to  the  table-land  and  there 
beholds  the  varied  extent  of  the  new  culture.  What 
8tron<(er  proof  can  there  be  of  its  superior  «j^rade  when 
lie  passes  by  with  comparative  indillbrence  tlie  Vucatec 
s])eciinen,  known  to  us  to  be  of  rare  beauty,  and  ex- 
pivssos  njarked  wonder  only  on  reachinijf  Mexico? 

]Jernal  Diaz  wrote  rather  late  in  life,  after  manv 
accounts  had  already  been  jjfiven.  He  piided  himst-lf 
on  giving  a  true  history,  was  (juite  as  ready  to  iight 
with  his  pen  as  with  his  sword,  and  havinuf  had  niany 
(|uan'els,  and  still  harboring  many  jealousies,  was 
viry  apt  to  criticise  what  others  said;  and  he  did  so 
criticise  and  refute.  The  truth  is,  there  were  hero 
many  .and  opposing  elements  in  the  evidence  to  win- 
now it  from  falsehood,  far  more  than  are  usually 
found  in  early  materials  for  history. 

The  memorials  of  the  relatives  of  Velazquez  to  the 
king  are  not  worth  considering,  being  little  more  than 
masses  of  misstatements  and  exaggerations. 

The  personage  known  is  the  Anonymous  Con- 
queror, probably  Francisco  do  Teriazas,  mayordomo 
of  Cortt'S,  gave  a  clear  description  of  Mexico,  the 
country,  people,  towns,  and  institutions,  and  particu- 
larly the  capital  city,  arranged  in  paragraphs  with 
proper  headings,  with  drawings  of  the  great  temple 
and  of  the  city.  His  method  and  language  denote  in- 
telligence and  inspire  confidence.  No  reason  is  known 
why  he  should  exaggerate,  many  being  a])paront 
why  he  should  render  a  true  account.  If  his  testi- 
mony can  be  ruled  out  on  the  ground  that  it  does  not 
fit  a  theory,  then  can  that  of  any  man  wlio  furnishes 
material  for  historv,  and  our  histories  may  as  well  be 
written  with  the  theories  as  authorities,  and  liavu  done 
with  it.  Dealing  wholly  with  native  institutions,  the 
writer  seems  to  have  no  desire,  as  is  the  case  with 
some,  to  magnify  native  strength  and  resources  for  the 


le 


THE  EARLY  AMERICAN  CHRONICLERS. 


sake  of  r.ilsini^  the  cstimato  of  the  deeds  of  liiinself 
and  comradtjs;  on  the  contrary,  in  .s[)ouking  of  native 
troops  and  arms,  where  a  soldier  would  be  most  in- 
clined to  hoast,  the  description  rather  nu)d<;rates  the 
idea  of  th((ii'  jirowess.  The  population  of  Mexico  lie 
gives  lower  than  most  writers,  and  yet,  when  descrihinj^ 
tlie  city  and  its  arts,  he  grows  quite  elocjuent  on  the 
ni:'-e,  the  heauty,  the  civilized  features.  The  wliolo 
narrative  hears  the  stamp  of  reliability,  and  the  stu- 
dent may  easily  from  internal  evidence  and  com- 
j)arison  deduct  approximate  truth. 

There  are  documents,  such  as  Carta  del  Ejet'cito  and 
J^i'oixnr.ti  (Ic  Lcjdldc,  attested  under  oath  by  lunuh'eds, 
Mi<Uhorefore  apparently  worthy  of  credit  above  others; 
lat  when  we  examine  the  motives  for  their  })roduction, 
iiid  ilnd  that  they  were  intended  to  palliate  the  con- 
duct of  the  conquerors,  our  confidence  is  shaken. 

lEcrnan  Cortes  was  ever  ready  with  a  lie  when  it 
suited  his  purpose,  but  he  was  far  too  wise  a  man  need- 
lessly to  waste  S(j  useful  an  agent.  He  vrould  not,  and 
did  not,  acquire  a  name  for  untruthfulness,  lie  knew 
that  others  were  writing  as  well  as  himself,  and  it 
could  by  no  possibility  biing  him  ])ermanent  l)enefit 
to  indulge  in  much  deception.  His  misstatements 
chielly  all'ect  himself  and  his  enemies  and  opponents 
among  his  own  countrymen;  in  giving  detailed  infor- 
mation concerning  the  natives  there  was  little  temp- 
tation to  deceive.  His  Cartas  might  naturally  be 
ex[)ected  to  aim  at  extolling  his  achievements  and  the 
value  of  Ills  discovery.  Expecting  some  coloring,  the 
student  is  forewarned.  We  lind  at  times  what  v/e  i'eel 
inclined  to  stamp  as  exaggeration,  but  liere  also  the 
enthusiasm  of  the  nai  "ator  rises  only  as  he  approaches 
jNIcixico,  the  fame  of  diich  is  dinned  into  his  ears  all 
along  his  march,  and  liat  l)y  the  natives  nearer  the 
coast,  whose  high  ad  mccment  is  attested  by  ruins 
and  relics.  Internal  ai  X  collateral  evidence  shows  his 
first  descriptions  of  s  ghts  to  be  far  from  overrated, 
and  his  later  discoveries  to  be  in  the  main  quite  trust- 


HERXAN  CORTC S. 


17 


wortliy.  Indood,  awaro  that  somo  of  his  statements 
may  bo  (loiibtod,  ho  ur<^os  his  soveroij^n  moro  than 
oiico  to  solid  out  a  conmiission  to  verify  them. 

Sucli  verification  was  exacted.  Officials  did  como 
out  to  report  on  the  conquest  and  its  vahie,  only  to 
join,  in  the  main,  in  confirmation  of  what  had  Ixhmi 
said.  A  series  of  questions  was  also  sent  to  puhlic! 
111(11  in  Mexico  not  lon;,^  after  the  conquest,  bearin;^  to 
ii  nivat  extent  on  the  native  culture,  and  the  answm-s 
all  tend  to  confirm  the  hi^h  estimate  already  foi-mcd 
Iniia  the  specimens  and  rejjorts  forwarded  to  Spain. 
One  of  the  most  exhaustive  answers  was  sent  by  the 
cininent  jurist  Alonso  de  Zurita,  connected  for  nearly 
twenty  years  with  Spanish  audiencias  in  New  Spain. 
He  niviews  the  native  institutions  with  calm  and  clear 
judLfmont,  and  it  is  only  in  rejecting  the  eiiithet  of 
barbarians  as  bestowed  by  untliinking  })orsons — a  term 
a[>pli(!(l  also  to  Europeans  by  Chinese — that  he  o-rows 
indignant,  declaring  that  none  who  had  any  knowledge 
of  jNIexican  institutions  and  capacity  could  use  such 
a  term.  He  spoke  while  evidences  were  quite  fresh, 
and  well  knew  what  ho  affirmed.  Similar  conllrm- 
atory  evidence  may  bo  found  massed  in  the  various 
collections  of  letters  and  narratives  about  the  Indies 
brought  to  light  from  the  archives  of  Spain  and 
America,  and  ])ublished  by  the  editors  of  the  extensive 
Odecclon  de  Documentos  Ineditos;  Colccciou  de  Docu- 
mc.ntos  jxira  lallistoria  de  Mexico,  etc.;  by  the  leai'ned 
Navarrete,  Ramirez,  Icazbalceta,  Ternaux-Compans, 
and  others. 

Still  stronger  evidence  of  the  reliability  of  the 
early  authorities  comes  from  the  consideration  that 
the  rumors  of  IMexico's  grandeur  and  wealth  attracted 
vast  hordes  of  hungry  seekers  for  gold,  grants  of  land, 
iid  office.  Of  course,  -iiost  of  them  were  disap- 
jjointed,  and  Cortes,  from  his  inability  to  please  and 
^jratify  all,  raised  a  host  of  enemies,  who  joined  the 
large  number  already  arraigned  against  him  by  reason 
of  his  successes.     Their  aim  was  naturally  to  vilify 


Essays  and  Miscellany    l> 


rf 


18 


THE  EARLY  AMERICAN  CHRONICLERS. 


liim,  to  lower  the  achievements  of  the  conquest,  and 
to  dispara|ijc  tlie  country  which  had  failed  to  satisfy 
them.  If  ever  a  subject  was  assailed,  it  was  tliis  of 
Mexico,  her  resources  and  people;  assailed,  too,  during 
the  very  opening  years  of  tlie  occupation,  wlien  the 
testimony  of  eye-witnesses  was  abundant,  and  ]iarticu- 
larly  of  the  disappointed,  whose  voice  was  loudest. 
Notwithstanding  all  this  the  glories  of  Mexico  stand 
unshaken,  and  greater  grow  the  confirmed  ideas  of 
the  superior  condition  of  her  i-ace  in  nund)er,  culture, 
and  resources;  and  this,  too,  when  the  Spanish  gov- 
ernment began  to  discountenance  the  glowing  reports 
of  native  superiority,  and  to  lower  the  estimates  of 
aboriginal  wealth  and  condition,  with  a  view  to  keep 
foreign  attention  fr~.  u  the  country,  and  to  hide  the 
facts  which  would  tell  ajjainst  it  while  crushiii!.j  aliiuh 
culture  and  enslaving  a  noble  race. 

Thus  it  was  that  the  writincrs  of  Sahacfun,  Las 
Casas,  and  others,  were  suppressed  or  neglected.  But 
if  many  such  were  lost,  otliers  came  finally  to  light 
to  receive  additional  confirmation  from  the  native 
records.  It  is  to  these  records  that  we  must  loolc 
not  only  for  confirmation  of  what  the  chroniclers 
relate,  but  for  the  only  reliable  data  on  political  ma- 
chinery and  other  esoteric  subjects  with  which  Span- 
iards could  not  become  so  well  acquainted.  The  value 
of  native  records  as  supplementary  and  confirmatory 
testimony  is  self-apparent,  since  they  Mere  written  by 
and  for  the  natives  themselves,  and  naturally  without 
the  idea  of  exaggeration  or  deception  Ixjing  dominant. 
A  sufficient  nund)er  of  original  and  copied  native 
manuscripts  or  paintings  exists  in  different  museums 
and  libraries,  relatinar  not  onlv  to  historic  events,  but 
describing  the  nature  and  development  of  institutions 
and  arts. 

Besides  the  actual  records,  many  histories  exist, 
by  natives  and  friars,  based  wholly  on  such  paintings 
and  on  traditions  and  ])ersonal  observations,  such 
as  those  of  Tezozomoc,  Camargo,  and  Ixtlilxochitl. 


*A 


TfATIVE  HISTORIANS. 


19 


Each  of  these  native  authors  wrote  from  a  different 
standpoint,  in  the  interest  of  his  respective  nation- 
ahty.  Camargo,  for  instance,  as  a  Tlascultec  is  bit- 
terly hostile  to  the  Aztecs,  and  seeks  of  course  to 
detract  from  their  grandeur  in  order  to  exalt  his  own 
people.  Ho  rather  avoids  dwelling  on  Aztec  glories; 
nevertheless  frequent  admissions  appear  which  helj) 
to  confirm  the  impression  of  their  advanced  institu- 
tions. Ixtlilxochitl,  again,  writes  from  the  family 
nichives  of  his  royal  house  of  Tezcuco,  and  dwells 
u|)on  the  deeds  and  grandeur  of  his  city  and  tribe. 
None  of  these  authors  possess  sufficient  skill  to  C(Mi- 
ccal  the  coloring  wliich  constitutes  their  chief  defect 
as  authorities.  A  number  of  chroniclers,  and  even 
modern  writers  like  Brasseur  de  Bourlxmrg,  have 
used  native  paintings  and  narratives  more  or  less  I'or 
their  histories,  while  certain  others,  like  Veytia,  de- 
pend upon  them  or  their  translations  almost  wholly. 

Ixtlilxochitl  was  called  by  Bustamante  the  Cicero 
of  Amihuac,  and  of  course  is  to  b(^  read  with  allowance 
wlien  speaking  of  liis  people.  And  so  with  Fatlicr 
Duran — I  would  no  more  trust  a  zealous  priest  while 
defending  the  natives  than  I  would  trust  Morgan 
while  defending  his  theory. 

The  reliability  of  translators  is  best  judged  by  tlie 
method  used  by  Father  8ahagun  in  the  formation 
of  the  Jlistoria  General,  the  three  v.,lumes  of  whidi 
are  devoted  to  an  account  of  native  manners  and  cus- 
toms, their  domestic  aD'\  ])ul)lic  life,  their  festivals 
and  rites,  their  institutions  and  traits.  Instructed  by 
his  superiors,  the  friar  called  ujxm  intelligent  and 
learned  Indians  in  different  places  to  paint  in  hiero- 
glyphics their  accounts  of  these  subjects.  To  these, 
explanations  were  attached  in  full  Mexican  text,  and 
tested  by  fui'ther  inquiries,  and  then  translatetl  into 
Spanish  by  Sahagun.  Many  of  the  narrativ*es  aiu 
vague  and  absurd,  yet  these  very  faults  point  in  most 
cases  to  simple-minded  earnestness  and  frankness,  and 
render  the  work  rather  easier  for  the  discriminating 


20 


THE  EARLY  AMERICAN  CHRONICLERS. 


student  to  sift.  The  honesty  of  Sahag-un's  labors 
brought  upon  them  obloquy  and  neglect,  which  only 
the  more  serve  to  commend  the  work  to  us. 

It  is  from  such  sources,  original  and  translated 
native  records,  and  verbal  and  wi-itten  narrations  of 
eye-witnesses,  that  succeeding  wi'itcrs,  or  chroniclers 
proper,  obtained  the  main  portion  of  their  accounts 
of  conquests  and  aboriginal  institutions.  They  tliem- 
sclvcs  had  opportunities  for  observation ;  and  actuated 
l>y  different  motives,  they  were  naturally  impelled  to 
investigate  and  weigh  to  a  certain  extent,  whether 
through  eagerness  for  fame,  or  from  desire  to  raise 
the  achievenunts  of  favoi-iti^s,  or  to  detract  from  the 
glories  of  envied  or  detestetl  leaders. 

Las  Casas,  for  instance,  in  his  different  works 
stands  forward  as  a  pronounced  champion  of  the 
natives,  and  unflinchingly  lashes  the  conquerors  and 
liistorians  for  what  he  terms  cruelty,  unjust  policy-, 
and  false  statement.  His  IIisto)u'(i.  AjKjlof/cfiixi  is 
purely  a  defence  of  the  Indians,  their  institutions  and 
characteristics,  and  consequently  to  be  accepted  with 
cjiution.  The  need  of  this  caution  becomes  stronger 
when  we  behold  the  extreme  exagijerations  to  which 
he  is  led  in  the  Brcvc  Iicldclon,  claiming  to  be  an  expose 
of  Spanish  excesses  and  cruelties.  In  the  Ilistor'm  de 
his  Indias,  again,  he  allows  his  feelings  of  friendship 
I'or  Velazquez  to  detract  from  the  achievxnnents  of 
Cortes.  On  everv  hand,  therefore,  the  historian  finds 
reasons  for  accepting  with  caution  the  statements  of 
Las  Casas;  but  thus  forewarned,  he  is  able  to  reject 
tl\e  false  and  determine  the  true.  He  also  finds  that 
wlien  not  blinded  by  zeal  the  worthy  bishop  is  honest, 
and  withal  a  keen  and  valuable  observer,  guided  by 
practical  sagacity  and  endowed  with  a  certain  genius. 

His  contemporary,  Oviedo,  although  l(>ss  talented, 
is  by  no  means  deficient  in  knowledge,  and  a  varied 
experience  in  both  hemispheres  had  given  him  a 
useful  insight  into  affairs.  He  is  not  partial  to  the 
natives,  and  Las  Casas  actually  denounces  his  state- 


LAS  CASAS,  OVIEDO,  TETER  MARTYR,  GOMARA,  21 

mcnts  against  them  as  lies.  This  is  hardly  just,  ex- 
cept ill  some  instances.  Vv'liile  personally  acquainted 
only  with  the  region  to  the  south  of  Nicaragua  Lake, 
his  account  embraces  all  Spanish  con(iuests  in  the 
western  Indies,  the  facts  being  gathered  from  every 
accessible  source,  and  either  compiled  or  given  in 
fcioparate  form.  Indian  and  Spaniard,  fi'iend,  foe,  and 
rival,  all  receive  a  hearing  and  a  record,  so  that  his 
^\()l•k  is  to  a  great  extent  a  mass  of  testimonv  from 
o|)[i(>site  sides.  This  to  the  hasty  reader  may  [)resent 
a  loutradictory  apj)earance,  as  Las  Casas  is  led  to 
assume,  but  to  the  student  such  material  is  valualilc. 

A  third  contemporary  and  famous  writer  is  Peter 
^Martyr,  a  man  of  brilliant  attainments,  deep,  clear 
mind,  and  honest  purpose,  who  had  gained  for  him- 
self a  prominent  position  in  Spain,  and  even  a  seat  in 
tlie  Council  of  the  Indies.  Naturally  interested  in 
the  New  World,  whose  affairs  were  then  unfolding, 
hi'  eagerly  questioned  those  who  came  thence,  con- 
sulted their  charts  and  reports,  and  was  thus  enabled 
to  form  a  more  accurate  opinion  about  the  Indians 
and  their  land,  one  that  was  thus  founded  on 
reliable  and  varied  testimony.  A  fault,  however,  is 
the  haste  with  which  his  summaries  were  formed, 
both  in  order  and  detail;  yet  even  this  defect  tends 
to  leave  the  nari'ative  unvarnished  and  free  from  a 
dangerous  elaboration.  Even  Las  Casas  admits  its 
credibility. 

The  different  minds,  motives,  prejudices,  and  even 
antagonisms,  of  these  three  writers  eacli  impart  an 
additional  value  to  their  respective  writings  from 
which  tlie  historian  cannot  fail  to  derive  benefit. 

Like  Peter  ]\rart3'r,  Goinara  took  his  material 
entirely  from  testimony,  chielly  letters,  rejiorts,  and 
other  documents  in  the  archives  of  Cortes,  his  patron, 
and  collections  to  which  his  inlluence  gained  access. 
His  high  literary  tastes  gave  a  zest  to  his  writings, 
but  impelled  him  also  to  elaboration,  and  his  llistorln 
de  Mexico  is  colored  by  his  predilections  as  biographer 


22 


THE  EARLY  A^klERICAN  CHRONICLERS. 


I 


of  the  conqueror.  On  the  other  hand,  he  finds  en- 
dorsement in  the  decree  which  was  issued  against 
his  history  because  of  its  treatment  of  government 
affairs,  and  comparison  with  other  histories  reveals 
the  many  vahiable  points  which  he  has  brought  to 
hght.  The  adoption  of  his  Mexican  work  by  so 
prominent  a  native  as  Chimalpain  is  to  a  certain  ex- 
tent an  assurance  of  its  truthfuhiess. 

Munoz  places  Gomara  among  the  first  of  the 
chroniclers.  lie  had  no  special  reason  that  we  can 
see  to  extol  unduly  native  institutions.  He  wrote 
early  enough  to  know  all  about  them,  but  not  so  early 
as  to  be  carried  away  by  a  first  enthusiasm.  ]\Iade 
socretar}^  and  chaplain  to  Cortes  in  1540,  his  object 
of  adulation  was  his  patron,  in  I'ecounting  whose 
deeds  he  cannot  be  trusted.  Neither  had  Cortes,  as 
before  remarked,  special  interest,  least  of  idl  at  this 
time,  in  magnitying  the  civilization — the  civilization 
he  had  destroyed.  Alvarado  and  others  of  the  chron- 
iclers were  repeatedly  tried  by  the  Spanish  govern- 
ment I'or  their  cruelty  to  the  natives,  whom  it  was 
the  desire  of  both  church  and  state  to  preserve.  It 
would  therefore  be  rather  in  favor  of  the  conquerors 
to  hold  them  up  as  ignoble  and  low. 

The  learned  and  elegant  Antonio  de  Solis,  though 
so  bigoted  as  to  render  his  deductions  in  many  in- 
stances puerile,  and  though  constantly  raving  against 
the  natives,  was  closely  followed  by  both  Robertson 
and  Prescott. 

Herrera,  the  historiographer  of  the  Indies,  uses 
the  material  of  all  the  preceding  writers,  in  addition  to 
original  narratives,  and  has  in  his  Ilistoria  General 
the  most  complete  account  of  American  affairs  up  to 
his  time.  His  method  of  massing  material  makes  it 
most  valuable,  but  a  slavish  adherence  to  chronology 
destroys  the  sequence,  interferes  with  broad  views, 
and  renders  the  reading  uninteresting.  This  defect  is 
increased  by  a  bald,  prolix  stjde,  the  effect  of  inexpe- 
rienced aid,  and  by  the  extreme  patriotism  and  piety 


i; 


HERRERA,  TORQUEMADA,  MEXDIETA 


23 


which  often  set  aside  integrity  and  humanity.  On 
the  other  hand,  he  in  some  measure  tempered  and 
corrected  the  exaggerations  of  lils  predecessors. 

Torquemada  was  less  critical  in  accepting  material, 
but  he  was  indefatigable  In  his  eftbrts  to  exhaust  the 
Information  about  New  Spain  and  her  natives,  and 
his  Monarquia  Indiana  is  the  most  comjilete  account 
extant  in  its  combination  of  topics.  Though  an  able 
work,  It  contains  many  errors;  yet  the  manllbld  sources 
of  Information  all  the  more  help  the  student  to  airive 
at  the  truth.  Torquemada  amassed  a  great  store  of 
])rlvate  information  about  native  institutions  during 
the  fifty  years  of  his  labor  among  the  Indians,  and 
lie  made  use  of  many  histories  then  uni)ubllshed — 
instance  those  of  Sahagun,  INlendleta,  and  others. 

Mendleta  was  an  ardent  champion  of  the  natives, 
and  a  bitter  opponent  of  the  audiencia  and  govern- 
ment officials;  yet  in  nmndane  affairs  he  })ossessed 
sitund  judgment,  so  much  so  that  he  was  fre(|uently 
intrusted  with  important  missions  of  a  diplomatic  na- 
ture, lie  became  the  liistorlan  of  his  provuicia,  and 
gained  the  title  of  Its  Cicero.  His  Hidoria  Eclesi- 
dstica,  which  treats  chiefly  of  the  missionary  progress 
of  his  order,  contains  a  large  amount  of  matter  on 
native  customs,  arts,  and  ttivits. 

]MendIcta  may  be  regarded  as  the  pupil  of  Toriblo 
de  Benavente,  whose  humility  of  si)lrlt  caused  him  to 
ado])t  the  name  of  Motollnia,  applied  by  the  Indians 
out  of  connnlseratlon  for  his  appearance.  Not  that 
he  was  very  humble  in  all  matters,  as  may  be  setin 
from  his  bitter  attack  on  Las  Casas.  In  this  in- 
stance, however,  he  was  merely  an  exponent  of  the 
hostility  prevailing  between  the  Franciscans,  to  which 
he  belonged,  and  the  Dominicans,  which  led  to  many 
pen  contests  and  contradictory  measures  for  tlie  In- 
dians, from  all  of  which  the  historian  gains  new  facts. 
Motolinia  arrived  In  Mexico  in  1524,  and  wandered 
over  It  and  the  countries  to  the  south  for  a  series  of 
years,  teaching  and  converting.    He  is  claimed  to  have 


24 


THE  EARLY  AMERICAN  CHRONICLERS. 


baptized  over  four  hundred  thousand  persons.  His 
knowlcdj^c  of  the  aborigines  and  long  intercourse  with 
them  before  their  customs  were  chan'^ed,  cnaljlcd  him 
to  acquire  most  important  information  about  them. 
All  this,  together  with  the  story  of  his  mission  work, 
is  related  in  the  Jlidoria  tie  los  Indios  de  Niwva 
Espaha,  written  in  a  rambling  manner,  with  a  nliive 
acceptance  of  the  marvellous,  yet  bearing  a  stamp  of 
truthfulness  that  wins  confidence. 

Occasionally  there  have  risen  M'riters  who,  from 
excess  of  zeal,  personal  ambition,  or  careless  study  of 
facts,  sought  to  cast  doubts  on  nati\e  culture  and 
similar  topics,  like  De  Pan  and  Raynal,  only  to  evoke 
replies  more  or  less  hasty.  This  unsatisfactory  contest 
I'oused  the  ire,  among  others,  of  tlie  learned  Jesuit 
Clavigero.  Himself  born  in  Mexico,  his  patriotic 
zoal  was  kindled,  and  during  a  residence  there  of 
thirty-five  years,  till  driven  forth  by  the  general  edict 
against  his  order,  ho  made  the  ancient  history  and 
institutions  thereof  his  special  study.  The  result  was 
the  Storia  Antica  del  JUcssico,  which  if  less  bulkv  than 
l^onjuemada's  work,  is  far  more  satisfactory  in  its 
])lan  for  thoroughness  and  clearness,  and  remains  the 
leading  authority  in  its  field.  Clavigero  is  generally 
admitted  to  have  refuted  the  two  prominent  'Oppo- 
nents above  named  on  the  culture  questions,  even 
though  liis  statements  are  at  times  colored  with  the 
licat  of  ar<Tument  and  Avith  zeal  foi'  race. 

Amonc*'  the  remainin<j:  historians  who  treat  on  civi- 
lized  tribes  may  be  named  Acosta,  who  in  speaking 
of  IMexican  culture  borrows  wholly  from  Dui-an,  a 
Franciscan,  born  in  New  Spain  of  a  native  mother, 
and  consequently  predisposed  in  favor  of  his  race. 
Indeed,  nciarly  all  of  Duran's  bulky  narrative  on 
ancient  history  and  institutions  is  not  only  from  native 
sources,  but  from  a  native  standpoint.  Vetancurt, 
who  agrees  mainly  with  Torquemada,  follows  both 
native  and  Spanish  versions.  Benzoni  offers  a  go  .  1 
htore  of  personal   observation  on   Central  American 


i*  ■'• 


OTIIEII  WRITERS. 


25 


iicrican 


Indians  and  affairs,  l)iit  writes  fn^m  licarsay  wlicn 
touching  on  ^Mexico.  Writers  on  special  districts  are 
also  numerous.  Bishop  Landa  wrote  on  Yucatan  a.id 
itscultur(\and  is  accused  of  haviiiij  tiiven  forth  and  in- 
vented  alplial)ets,  as  the  ]Maya.  Cogolludo  adds  much 
to  his  accounts,  while  Fuentcs,  llemesal,  Vasquez, 
Villagutierre,  andJuarros  exhaust  the  adjoining  Helds 
of  Chia[)as  and  Guatemala.  Thence  northward  the 
circle  may  be  continued  Avith  Burgoa's  works  on 
Oiijaca,  Beaumont's  on  jSIichoacan,  Mota  Padilla's 
on  Nueva  Galicia,  Arlegui's  ou  Zacatecas,  Bibas'  on 
Sinaloa;  and  so  forth. 

Descriptions  of  the  chroniclers  and  their  works 
might  be  carried  to  almost  any  extent,  ))ut  sufficient 
has  been  given,  I  trust,  to  prove  their  testimony, 
taken  as  a  whole,  closely  sifted  and  carefully  weighed, 
to  be  quite  as  worthy  of  credence  as  that  from  which 
history  is  usually  derived.  I  cannot  throw  to  the 
wimls  such  testimony  in  order  that  certain  specu- 
latoi's  ma}^  the  better  win  converts  to  their  fancy. 

The  traducers  of  Aztec  culture  and  its  chroniclers 
have  cvitlently  failed  in  that  most  important  point  of 
carefully  reading,  comparing,  and  analyzing  the  author- 
ities which  they  so  recklessly  condemn  as  a  mass  of 
fiction  or  exaggeration.  It  seems  to  me  ridiculous  for 
the  superficial  i-caders  of  a  few  books  to  criticise  the 
result  of  such  thorough  researches  as  Prescott's,  and 
even  to  sweep  them  all  away  with  one  contemptuous 
breath.  I  lor  one  can  testify  to  Prescott's  general 
fairness  and  accuracy.  His  researches  and  writings 
arc  bcj'ond  all  comparison  with  those  of  any  modern 
theorist.  Others  also  have  read,  compared,  and  ana- 
lyzed the  authorities  on  Mexico,  perhaps  even  more 
than  Prescott,  for  fresh  documents  have  ajipeared 
since  his  time;  and  while  some  errors  and  discre])- 
ancies  have  been  discovered,  vet  in  the  main  neither 
Nahua  culture  nor  the  chronicles  and  records  de- 
scribing it  can  be  said  to  have  been  misrepresented  or 
exaggerated  by  him. 


m 


i  '!r 


26 


THE  EARLY  AMERICAN  CHRONICLERS. 


The  very  discrepancies  in  the  accounts  of  diflferent 
chroniclers,  which  to  the  experienced  observer  indi- 
cate genuineness  and  truthfuhicss,  are  paraded  by  the 
superticial  reader  as  proof  of  falsity.  The  chroniclers 
have  for  centuries  been  exposed  to  numerous  and 
severe  ordeals  of  critique,  and  their  respective  defects 
and  merits  have  been  widely  discussed;  but  on  the 
whole  these  discussions  tend  to  confirm  the  state- 
ments which  I  have  given,  some  of  the  strongest 
testimony  being  found  in  tlieir  very  differences  and 
blunders.  Thus  not  even  their  biufotrv,  then  so  strong 
and  wide-spread,  tlieir  simplicity,  their  prejudices  in 
different  directions,  none  of  these  can  conceal  the 
truth  or  its  main  features,  although  occasional  points 
may  still  remain  hidden  under  a  false  coloring.  The 
rigid  censorship  exercised  in  Spain  over  all  writings 
led  to  the  suppression  of  many  works,  but  the  main 
effort  was  to  suppress  heterodoxy  and  unfavoiable 
reliections  on  Spanish  policy,  and  if  culture  questions 
were  touched,  to  lower  the  estimate  thereof  hi  order 
to  cover  vandalism. 

AVliile  thoroughly  convinced  that  we  have  in  the 
early  American  chroniclers  a  solid  foundation  for  his- 
tory, as  before  stated  I  do  not  by  any  means  accept 
as  truth  all  they  say;  I  do  not  accept  half  of  what 
some  sav,  while  others  I  find  it  difficult  to  believe 
at  all.  Upon  this  basis,  then — that  is,  on  the  basis 
of  truth  and  well  sifted  facts — I  will  present  a  few  of 
the  leading  characteristics  of  the  Naliua  and  ]\Iaya 
peoples,  sufficient  in  my  opinion  to  justify  their  claim, 
as  the  world  goes,  to  be  called  civilized. 

Whether  those  who  thus  aft'ect  to  disbelieve  in 
Aztec  culture,  including  such  men  as  Lewis  Cass 
and  R.  A.  Wilson,  advocate  an  Old  World  origin  for 
some  of  the  advanced  features  does  not  matter,  for 
there  is  absolutely  no  evidence  for  such  origin  beyond 
resemblances  which  may  be  traced  between  nations 
throughout  the  world;  on  the  other  hand,  there  are 


I 


f:i:ii! 


THE  CITY  OF  MEXICO. 


27 


lifforent 
er  iucli- 
1  by  the 
'oniclcrs 
3US  and 
>  dofects 
;  on  the 
c  stato- 
trongest 
ices  and 
lo  strong 
idiccs  in 
[;cal   the 
d  points 
ig.    The 
writings 
;lio  main 
avoiablo 
|uostions 
in  order 


e  in  the 

1  for  his- 

is  accept 

of  what 

)  beheve 

he  basis 

a  few  of 

d  ^Maya 

ir  claim, 

sheve  in 
vis  Cass 
rigin  for 
itter,  for 
1  beyond 
nations 
;here  are 


I 


strong  internal  evidences  of  th  autochthonic  origin 
of  some  of  the  highest  features  of  this  civilization, 
such  as  hieroglyphics  and  many  branches  of  the  liiglier 
arts.  Besides,  the  existence  or  non-existence  of  these 
advanced  arts  is  the  point  in  question,  not  whence 
tlioy  came. 

The  city  of  ISIexico  presents  many  features  of  ad- 
vanced urban  life  under  Aztec  occupation,  not  alone 
as  related  by  chroniclers,  but  as  proved  by  incidental 
details  in  the  account  of  the  sieges  of  and  by  the 
Si)aniards,  and  by  the  ruins.  Humboldt  found  distinct 
traces  of  the  old  city,  extending  in  some  directions  far 
beyond  the  present  actual  limits;  and  the  numerous 
and  substantial  causeways  which  led  to  it  for  several 
miles  through  the  lake  prove  that  it  must  have  been 
of  great  extent.  The  causeways,  though  now  passing 
c»ver  dry  land,  are  still  in  use,  and  reveal  their  solidity. 
Any  one  who  will  carefully  read  the  military  repoi't 
and  other  accounts  of  the  long  protracted  siege  must 
become  impressed  with  the  vast  extent  and  strength 
of  the  city;  the  large  number  and  size  of  its  temple 
pyramids  affirm  the  same.  Through  an  aqueduct  of 
masonry  several  miles  long  it  was  supplied  with  water, 
w]iich  was  distributed  by  pipes,  and  by  boatmen. 
Light-houses  guided  the  lake  traffic;  a  large  body  of 
men  kept  the  numerous  canals  in  order,  swept  the 
streets,  and  sprinkled  them.  The  houses  were,  many 
of  them,  large  and  well  built.  The  emperor's  palace 
contained  many  suites  of  rooms  designed  for  individual 
occupation,  not  at  all  like  anything  in  Xew  Mexicc). 
Temple-towers  and  turrets  were  frequent,  proving 
that  structures  several  stories  in  lieight  were  in  use. 

Among  the  Nahuas  the  several  branches  of  art 
were  under  control  of  a  council  or  academy,  with  a 
view  to  promote  development  in  poetry,  music,  oratory, 
jiainting,  and  sculpture,  though  chietty  literary  arts, 
and  to  check  the  production  of  defective  work,  l^eforo 
this  council  poems  and  essays  were  recited,  and  inven- 
tions exhibited. 


28 


THE  EARLY  AMERICAN  CIIROXICLER.S. 


If  distortion  assumes  ])r(nniM('iico  in  a  larj^c  class  of 
models  instead  of  ideal  beauty,  this  must  be  attributed 
to  tlie  jjeculiarity  and  cruelty  of  certain  Aztec  insti- 
tutions, which  stamp  their  traits  on  subjective  art. 

IJeauty  of  outline  is  nevertheless  common,  notably 
in  the  lich  ornamentation  to  be  seen  on  ruins,  and 
on  art  relics  transmitted  in  large  numbers  to  Spain 
by  the  conijuerors.  The  IViezes  or  borders  ecjual  the 
Grecian  in  cleixant  outline  and  combination.  The 
well  known  calendar  stone  contains  in  itself  a  vast 
imm])er  of  beautiful  designs.  Some  of  the  vases  in 
the  nmseums  at  Mexico  and  Washington  suri)ass  the 
Eti'uscan  in  beauty  of  form  and  in  tasteful  decora- 
tions. Again,  the  terra-cotta  heads  jjicked  up  round 
Teotihuacan,  some  of  which  I  have  in  my  possession, 
exhibit  a  most  truthful  delineation  of  the  human  face, 
with  considerable  expression,  and  are  of  actual  beauty. 

Other  admii'able  si)ecimens  are  the  female  Aztec 
idol  in  the  Uritish  Museum,  the  mosaic  knife  with  its 
human  figure  from  Cliristy's  collection,  the  skin-clad 
Aztec  })i  iest,  the  Ethiopian  granite  head,  the  beauti- 
ful head  from  j\Iitla,  and  the  grotesque  figures  I'lom 
the  Mexican  gulf.  Such  specimens  sullice  to  establish 
the  existence  of  a  high  denree  of  art  amont;  the 
Naliuas. 

As  for  the  advance  exhibited  by  adjohiing  races, 
one  glance  at  the  numerous  artistic  designs  and 
groupings  on  Yucatan  ruins  must  command  admira- 
tion, which  rises  as  tJie  observer  examines  the  monu- 
ments at  Palenque,  with  their  extent  of  massive 
edifices,  their  advanced  mode  of  construction,  their 
galleries,  their  arches,  their  fine  facade  and  interior 
ornamentativ.xi,  and  above  all,  their  numerous  human 
figures  of  absolute  beauty  in  model.  This  applies 
also  to  some  terra-cotta  relics  fi'om  the  same  quarter. 

Oinamental  work  in  gold  and  silver  had  reached  a 
perfection  which  struck  the  Sjianiards  with  admira- 
tion, and  much  of  the  metal  obtained  by  them  was 
given  to  native  smiths  to  shape  into  models  and  set- 


WORK  IX  METALS. 


29 


tinc^.s.  !Many  plcpcs  scMit  to  Europe  wcro  pronounrod 
sui)C'iior  to  what  Old  World  artists  could  thou  i)n)- 
ducL".  IJirds  and  (jtlier  animals  wurc  modelled  with 
astonishing  exactness,  and  furnished  with  movahle 
win'fs,  leirs,  and  tonjxues.  The  so-called  'lost  art'  ot' 
castinL^  parts  of  the  same  object  in  dill'erent  nictals 
was  known;  thus  iishes  wei'e  modelled  with  altriiiate 
scaks  of  j^old  and  silver.  Coi)[)er  and  other  nictals 
were  gilded  by  a  process  which  would  have  made  tlu; 
fortune  of  a  goldsmith  in  Europe.  Furnaces,  perhaps 
of  earthen-ware,  and  blow|)i[)es,  are  depicted  on  native 
[)aintings  in  comi(.'ctioii  with  gold-woi'king. 

Although  there  had  been  but  little  progress  in 
mining,  yet  a  beginning  appears  to  have  been  made 
in  obtaining  nu'tajs  and  minerals  fr()ni  the  solid  rock, 
and  melting,  casting,  lummiering,  and  carving  were  in 
use  among  goldsmiths  and  (^ther  workers,  as  shown 
in  native  paintings.  This  is  one  of  the  strongest 
[>roofs  that  the  Xaiiuas  were  |)roL>ressing  in  civih/.ation, 
not  at  a  stand-still  nor  retroofradinsr,  for  such  miniuLT 
and  molting  methods  must  surely  lead  to  the  discovery 
of  iron  ere  they  stopped.  Cutting  inij)lements  were 
made  of  copper  alloyed  with  tin,  and  tempered  to 
great  hardness.  Yet  stone  tools  were  still  chieily 
used,  particular!}'  those  of  obsidian,  from  which  mir- 
rors were  also  niade,  equal  in  reilecting  power  to 
those  of  Europe  at  that  time,  it  was  said.  Softer 
stone  being  chieily  used,  Hint  implements  suflieed 
lor  tlie  sculptor;  yet  specimens  exist  in  hard  stone. 
Precious  stones  were  cut  with  c()})per  t(,)ols,  with  the 
aid  of  silicious  sand,  and  carved  in  forms  of  ani- 
mals. Specimens  of  their  art  m  stone  and  metal  were 
received  in  Europe,  \vliere  chroniclers  of  different 
minds  and  impulses  write  in  ecstasy  over  workman- 
ship which  in  so  many  instances  surpassed  in  excel- 
lence that  of  Spain.  The  fabrics  and  feather-work 
wore  equally  admired  for  linencss  of  texture,  l)rilliancy 
of  coloring,  and  beauty  of  arrangement  and  form.  So 
accurate  were  the  representations  of  animals  in  relief 


30 


TllK  KAIUA'   AMKlllCAX  ClIUONRLKliS. 


'ii'j 


aiul  drawing  a«  to  hltvo  the  naturalist  Hirnandtz  for 
models. 

'I'lu!  Xaliua  paintings  show  littli;  ai'tistic  merit, 
bc'('an-;e  the  flgui'es,  in  order  to  be  intelligilile,  wero 
iiccessariiy  conventional,  as  wi-ro  tlie  i\'L,ni)tiaii  hiero- 
gly])lii('s.  This  necessity  luiturally  crainjK'd  art.  J>ut 
while  the  Egv[)tians  carried  the  conventionality  «'Veu 
to  sculpture  and  painting  generally,  the  Nahuas  clung 
to  it  closely  only  in  their  writings;  and  it  needs 
but  a  glance  at  many  specimens  among  ruins  an<l 
nslics  to  sec  that  considerable  skill  had  been  reached 
in  delineating  even  the  human  form  and  face  in 
])lastic  material,  for  in  painting  the  develo[)ment  was 
small.  An  art,  however,  which  apjjroaclied  tliat  of 
painting  was  the  formation  of  designs  and  imitation 
of  animal  forms,and  even  faces,  witli  leathers— leath(^r- 
mosaic— so  beautifully  done  that  tlu^  feather-pictures 
are  declared  by  wondering  Spaniards  to  have  ecjualled 
tlie  best  works  of  ]"]uropean  painters.  S[)ecimens  are 
still  to  be  seen  in  museums.  The  artist  would  olten 
spend  hours,  even  days,  in  selecting  and  adjusting 
one  feather  in  order  to  obtain  the  desired  shade  of 
color. 

Fabrics  were  made  of  cotton,  of  rabbit-hair,  or  of 
both  mixed,  or  with  feather  admixture.  The  rabbit- 
hair  fabrics  were  pronounced  equal  in  finish  and  text- 
ure to  silk.  The  fibres  of  maguey  and  palm  leaves 
were  used  for  coarser  cloth.  Paper  in  long  narrow 
sheets  was  made  chiefly  of  maguey  fibres,  and  tliough 
thick,  the  surflicc  was  smooth.  Gums  a])pear  to  liave 
been  used  for  cohesion.  Paiehmcnt  was  also  used. 
Skins  were  tanned  by  a  p>rocess  not  described,  but  the 
result  is  highly  praised.  J\i  dyeing  they  appeared  to 
have  excelled  Europeans,  and  cochineal  and  other 
dyes  have  been  introduced  among  us  from  them. 
Many  of  their  secrets  in  this  art  have  since  been  lost. 

There  is  little  doubt  that  the  palaces  of  the  rulers 
were  of  immense  extent,  and  provided  with  manifold 
comforts  and  specimens  of  art.    Numerous  divisions 


NAIIUA    XSTITUTI0X3. 


31 


cxistofl  for  liaronis,  private  rooniH,  rotvption  and  state 
rooms,  j^iiard- rooms,  servants'  quarter,  storehouses, 
oardeiis,  juid  meiiaufi'ries.  Tlie  clironielei's  spealc  o[' 
walls  laced  with  p(»lished  marhleaiid  jas])er;  of  balco- 
nies supported  l)ymonoliths,()f  sculptures  and  <'arvinL;s, 
(if  tapestry  hrilliant  in  colors  and  liiu^  in  texture,  t»t' 
censers  with  burninrj  perfume.  The  a<lmitted  excel- 
lence! in  arts  and  Wi.-alth,  the  possession  of  i-are  stones 
and  metals,  pennit  to  some  extent  the  belief  in  a 
]  lall  of  Gokl,  Room  of  Emeralds,  and  so  forth,  which 
the  chroniclers  place  within  the  ])alacos. 

The  menagerici  at  ]\Iexieo  was  large  and  varied,  and 
the  many  beautifully  laid  out  gardens  in  all  jiarts  of 
the  country,  some  devoted  to  scientilic  advancement, 
denote  a  hirjh  status  in  natural  history. 

Thi'oughout  the  narratives  of  tlu^  chroniclers  the 
Aztec  ruler  receives  the  titloof  emperor,  which  it  was 
not  tlie  custom  of  the  conquerors  to  give  unadxisedly. 
It  was  almost  a  sacred  title  in  their  eyes,  their  own 
sovereign  being  so  called,  and  they  were  not  likely  to 
a|)ply  that  title  to  a  connnon  Indian  chief  Indeed, 
the  native  records  relate  that  jNIontezuma  II.  after 
many  conquests  assumed  the  title  em})eror,  or  ruler, 
of  the  world.  In  two  of  the  Nahua  kingdoms  the 
succession  was  lineal  and  hereditary,  and  fell  to  the 
eld(;st  legitimate  son,  those  born  of  concubines  or 
lesser  wives  being  passed  over.  In  ^lexico  election 
])ivvailcd,  but  the  choice  was  restricted  to  one  family. 
The  system  resembled  very  much  that  of  the  electoral 
rjernian  empire.  Each  of  these  rulei's  was  expected 
to  confer  with  a  council,  the  number  and  composition 
of  whose  members  arc  not  quite  satisfactorily  estab- 
lished. Executive  jxovernment  was  intrusted  to  re^•u- 
larly  appointed  officials  and  tribunals.  In  Tlascala  a 
parliament  composed  of  the  robility  and  headed  l)y 
the  four  lords  determined  the  aftairs  of  government. 

I'hc  native  records  indicate  a  number  of  classes  and 
orders  among  nobles,  officials,  and  warriors.  The 
highest  were  the  feudal  lords,  as  in  Tezcuco,  whose 


32 


THE  EARLY  AMERICAN  CIIROXICLERS. 


jiositlon  coD'cspoiulcd  very  niueli  to  that  of  the  miglity 
liar  ill  of'deriuany  ill  former  t'lncs, all  kc>pt  from  defying 
the  supreme  ruler  hy  a  balaiu  iiig  of  power,  by  private 
jealousies,  and  later  by  the  ruler  inereasing  their  num- 
bers, and  thus  eh)sely  uttaehing  to  himself  a  large  pro- 
portion, and  1)V  o1)liging  others  to  constantly  leside  in 
the  capital,  either  to  i'erm  a  council  or  on  other  ])re- 
tences.  Another  means  for  contrt)lling  the  haughty 
feudal  lord,  and  indued  a  step  toward  abolishing  their 
])owir,  was  to  divide  the  kingdom  into  sixty-live  de- 
partments, whose  gcn'crnors  were  nearly  all  creatures 
of  the  king.  The  })opulation  of  certain  distri'.-ts  Mas 
moved  in  [>art  to  other  districts,  or  made  to  receive 
inwanclerers,  both  operations  tending  to  give  the  king 
greater  control.  Instances  of  such  master-strokes  of 
policy  as  are  related  in  ai)original  records  serve  to 
show  the  power  of  the  monarch  and  tbe  advanced 
system  of  government. 

In  ^Mexico  the  })eople  had  had  access  in  a  groat 
measui'e  to  military,  civil,  and  court  offices,  but  with 
tlu'  enthronement  of  ^Montezuma  II.  the  nobles  man- 
aged to  obtain  exclusive  control  of  nearly  all  dignities. 
This  I'cform  naturally  served  to  alienate  the  })eople 
and  to  aid  in  the  dt)wnfall  (»f  the  em] lire. 

The  list  of  royal  oilieials  is  imposing  in  its  length, 
and  is  vouched  lor  not  only  by  the  minute  account  of 
the  titles  and  duties  of  the  dignitaries,  but  by  the 
many  incidental  allusions  to  them  and  their  acts  in 
the  native  ivcords  of  events.  The  hst  embraces  olnces 
corresponding  to  minister  of  war,  who  was  also  com- 
mandi  I'-in-chief;  to  minister  of  finance,  grand  master  of 
ceremonies,  grand  chand)erlain,  superintendent  of  arts, 
etc.  There  were  also  military  orders,  corresponding 
to  the  knights  of  medi;eval  I^ui-ojK",  while  the  church 
had  its  gradations  of  priests,  guardians,  deacons,  friars, 
nuns,  and  })robationers. 

Several  ti'ibunals  existed,  each  with  a  nundjer  of 
aj)]>ointed  judgt's  and  a  staff  of  oilieials;  and  a|)peals 
could  be  carried  from  one  to  the  othei",  and  linally  to 


JUDICIARY  -VXD  LAND  TENURE. 


33 


1  dying 
)i-ivatc 

V  llUlll- 

's'uio  ill 
cr  ])re- 
aiii4'lity 
iSX  their 
ivc  do- 
oatures 
cti  was 
rcccivu 
luj  kinii; 
•okcs  of 
icrvo  to 
Avaiiced 

a  cfro^t 
)ut  with 
s  man- 
nit  ios. 
people 


,^■1 


liMififth, 

ouut  of 

))y  tho 

acts  in 

s  oiliCL'S 

so  coni- 
ister  of 
.of  arts, 
DoiuUni; 
•hurch 
friars. 


nl 


)cr  ot 


ap))Ot 


Ina 


lly  to 


tho  supreme  judj^e,  who  was  without  a  colleague.  In 
the  wards  were  elected  magistrates,  who  judged  minor 
cases  in  the  first  instance,  and  an  inferior  class  of 
justices,  assisted  by  bailiffs  and  constables.  Some 
courts  had  jurisc^iction  over  matters  relating  only  to 
taxes  and  their  collectors,  others  over  industries  and 
arts.  Cases  were  conducted  with  the  aid  not  alone  of 
V(  il>al  testimony  under  oath,  but  of  paintings,  repre- 
si'iiliiig  documents;  and  names,  evidence,  and  decisions 
wciv  recorded  by  clerks.  Whether  advocates  were 
iiiiployed  is  not  clear,  but  the  judges  were  skilled  iii 
ci'dss-examination,  and  many  a  perjury  was  proved, 
fdlldwcd  by  the  penalty  of  death.  Suits  were  limited 
ti)  t'ighty  days,  liribery  was  strictly  forbidden.  T\\c 
judges  W(n'e  selected  from  the  higher  class, the  sui)eii(ir 
tVoiii  relatives  of  the  kings,  and  held  ollice  f  »r  life, 
sustained  by  ample  revenues.  Adultery  and  similar 
ciiiiiis  were  severely  punished. 

Laud  was  divided  in  dilfirent  ]MY)portions,  the 
largest  owned  by  king  and  nobles,  ami  t!ie  remaindt  r 
hy  tlie  t(nu[)les  and  communities  of  the  peo])le.  All 
>\U'\\  ]))'operty  was  duly  siirveyt'd,  and  each  estate 
accurately  marked  on  ma[>s  or  luiintings,  ke[)t  on  llle 
hy  (hstrict  otlicials.  ]']acli  class  of  landed  estate  had 
then  its  distinctive  color  and  name,  and  from  each 
owiun*  or  tenant  was  exacted  tribute  in  protluct  or 
sci'vic(\  regular  or  occasional.  Fori  ions  of  ihe  crown 
land  wi're  granted  to  usufructuarie  ■  an<l  tlieir  heirs; 
till'  service  rendered  and  to  be  reielered.  Tu  con- 
(|Uere(l  provinces  a  certain  territt.iy  was  set  aside  I'or 
the  coiKpieroi"  and  cultivated  by  the  people  for  his 
heiietit.  The  estates  of  the  nobles  were,  many  of 
ihein,  of  ancient  origin,  and  often  entaile(l,  which  fad, 
estaldishcs  to  a  certain  extent  the  jjiixate  ownership 
u  land.  These  feudatories  paid  no  rent,  but  were 
heuud  to  render  .  'vice  to  the  crown  with  person, 
\assals,  and  property,  when  called  u[)on.  The  jieople's 
land  belonged  to  the  wards  of  the  towns  or  \  illages, 
with  perju'tual   and    inalienable   tenure.      Individual 

HaSAYS  AM)   MlSCELLANV       3 


34 


THE  EARLY  AMERICAN  CITROXICLERS. 


members  of  the  ward  were,  on  demand,  assigned  por- 
tions for  use,  and  could  even  transmit  the  control 
thereof  to  heirs,  but  not  sell.  Certain  conditions 
must  be  observed  for  the  tenure  of  such  lands,  and 
tlie  observance  was  watched  over  by  a  council  of 
elders  or  its  agents. 

Tlicre  is  mucii  in  this  to  confirm  the  resemblances 
to  the  feudal  system  of  Europe  already  noticed.  TJie 
exactness  of  the  information  on  land  tenure  is  con- 
firmed by  investigations  instituted  under  auspices  of 
tlio  Spanish  government  with  a  view  to  respect  the 
liglits  of  the  natives,  so  far  as  the  claims  of  con- 
(pierors  and  settlers  permitted.  Cortes  obtained  from 
the  native  archives  and  officials  copies  of  the  estate 
ma|is,  and  tax  lists,  by  which  he  was  guided  in  his 
distributi(^n  of  land  and  collection  of  trilnite. 

In  tlie  department  of  the  minister  of  linance,  and 
in  the  otfices  of  the  numerous  tax  collectors,  were  kept 
hieroglyphic  lists  of  the  districts,  towns,  and  estates, 
designating  the  kind  and  quantity  of  tax  to  be  paid 
by  each,  in  j)roduct  or  service.  A  copy  of  such  a  list 
is  given  by  Lorenzana,  and  others  arc  reproduced  in 
the  Codex  j\lendoz;a,  and  other  collections.  Certain 
cities  had  to  su[»ply  tlie  palaces  with  laborers  and  sir 
vants,  food  and  I'urniture,  fabrics  and  other  material; 
otiiers  })aid  tlieir  service  and  products  regularly  to 
the  finance  department,  or  wlien  called  upon.  j\lanu- 
facturers  and  nunThants  paid  in  the  kind  they  pos- 
sessed, and  artisans  often  in  labor.  Tlie  tenants  of 
nobles  tilled  land  for  tiieir  own  benefit,  and  ])ai(l 
I'tMit  in  a  certain  amount  of  labor  for  the  landlord, 
and  in  military  service  when  called  upon;  besides 
this,  tliey  paid  tribute  in  kind  to  the  crown,  tlie  pro- 
duce being  stored  away  in  magazines  in  the  nearest 
towns. 

There  were  nearly  four  hundred  tributary  towns 
in  the  ^Mexican  empire,  some  paying  taxes  sev^eral 
times  a  month,  others  less  often,  and  still  others  only 
once  a  year,  the  amount  being  in  many  instances  over 


COMMERCE  AXD  SOCIETY. 


S5 


eel  por- 
contrc  A 
editions 
ids,  and 
ancil  of 

iblances 
)d.    Tho 

is  cou- 
;piceft  of 
pcct  tho 

t)f  con- 
ned from 
ic  estate 
xl  in  his 

tncc,  and 
rcro  kept 
1  estates, 
:>  1)0  paid 
Licli  a  list 
)duced  in 
Certain 
and  ser- 
material ; 
ularly  to 
^lanu- 
hey  pos- 
cnants  of 
and   l^aid 
landlord, 
l)esides 
,  the  pro- 
le  nearest 

iry  towns 
3S  sev'eral 
thers  only 
moes  over 


I 
I 


■-4 


a  third  of  everything  prochiced.  Custom-houses  also 
existed  for  exacting  duties. 

In  the  capitals  of  the  provinces  resided  chief  treas- 
urers, each  with  a  coqis  of  collectors,  who  not  only  en- 
foi-ced  the  payment  of  taxes  but  watched  that  lands 
were  ]<ept  under  cultivation  and  industries  generally 
maintained. 

To  illustrate  the  extent  to  which  organization  cn- 
tcre'd  into  the  affairs  of  life,  we  can  point  to  the  mer- 
cliaiits,  with  their  guilds,  apprenticeship,  caravans, 
markets,  fairs,  agencies,  and  factories  in  distant  re- 
gions. Tlatelulco  was  renowned  for  her  trade  and 
v;isl  market,  and  her  merchants  really  formed  a 
.  ,;iu.i  '■)  Mai  corporation  controlling  the  trade  of  the 
(•  >\;  'Jy-  Sahagun's  records  sketch  the  development 
oi"  i')i-'  company.  Maps  guided  them  in  their  journeys, 
ti'il)unnls  of  their  own  regulated  aifairs,  and  different 
aiilclos  were  accepted  as  a  medium  for  exchange,  in- 
cluding copper  and  tin  pieces,  and  gold-dust.  Tlu; 
Kiaikct  at  Tlatelulco,  in  the  vast  extent  of  booths, 
and  of  articles  for  sale,  and  in  its  regulations,  was  a 
source  of  wonder  to  the  Spaniards.  Couriers  and 
inns  existed  to  aid  travel  and  intercourse;  also  roads, 
well  kept  and  often  paved,  such  as  late  exploration 
in  Yucatan  shows  to  have  connected  distant  cities. 
In  naviix'.tion  the  Mexicans  were  less  advanced 

One  lawful  witt;  was  married  with  spei'ial  coremo- 
iiiis,  and  her  cliiV! 'On  were  flu?  oidy  legitimate  issue. 
Three  a(i  li  i(;'.;!]  '^lasses  of  mates  were  admissible: 
Ihoso  bound  to  t'.e  n»:in  with  less  solenm  ct'rtnnonies, 
and  bearing  tho  <.'^l-  of  wife,  like  the  legitimate  one, 
yet  deprived  of  inheritance  or  nearly  so,  together  with 
llieir  children;  those  bound  with  no  ceremonies,  and 
tanking  merely  as  concubines;  and  those  who  co- 
liahitod  with  unmarried  men,  and  who  miglit  be 
married  by  their-  lovers  or  by  other  men.  These  two 
classes  of  (  -ucubines  were  not  entitled  to  the  respect 
accorded  t'^-  Uie  first-named,  yet  no  dishonor  attached 
to  their  condition.     Public  prostitutes  were  toleratwl 


till 


na 


THE  EARLY  AMERICAN  CHRONICLERS. 


ill  ! 


as  a  necessary  evil.  This  is  a  social  condition  whicli 
needs  not  for  its  justification  to  seek  a  parallel  amon;^ 
other  nations  recognized  as  civilized,  nor  among  the 
European  princes  who  puhlicly  maintained  tlie  same 
classes  of  consorts  and  mistresses. 

Schools  Hourisncd  in  connection  with  the  temple 
under  contn)l  of  the  priests,  and  in  ^Mexico  every  (|uar- 
ter  had  its  school  fortlic;  common  [)eo[)le,  after  the  man- 
ner of  our  public  schools.  There  were  higher  schools 
or  colleges  for  sons  of  nobles  and  those  destined  for  the 
priesthood,  wherein  were  taught  history,  religion, 
philosophy,  law,  astr  u>omy,  writing,  and  interpreting 
hieroglyphics,  singiui  ,  '  •  'ing,  use  of  arms,  gymnas- 
tics, and  many  arts  an  oiences.  A  result  of  this 
higli  training  may  be  found  in  the  many  botanical 
and  zoological  collections  in  the  country,  an<l  the  pro- 
niotion  of  art  in  scul])ture,  weaving,  feather  orna- 
ments, and  jewelry,  by  the  nobles  and  the  wealthy. 

Picture-writing  is  practised  to  a  certain  extent  by 
all  savages,  both  in  rej)resentative  and  symbolic  form, 
but  it  is  only  by  studying  the  art,  or  following  its 
development  to  a  higher  grade,  that  it  acquires  per- 
manent value,  or  can  be  made  the  means  to  gain  for 
its  possessors  the  cultiu'c  stamp  of  keeping  records, 
and  records  were  kept  by  the  Xahuas.  They  1  d  ad- 
vanced to  some  extent  even  in  the  ])honetic  form  of 
picture-writing,  but  had  not  reached  the  alphabetic 
grade.  Any  codex  will  show  in  abundance  the  repre- 
sentative and  syml)olic  signs,  and  some  that  are  ])ho- 
netic.  In  reliijjious  and  astrolo^-ic  documents  the  si«>'ns 
vary  so  greatly  that  the  theory  has  been  strongly 
asserted  tiiat  the  priests  used  a  partially  distinct 
syi.ibohc  system  for  certain  records.  When  studying 
cliurch  ibrms  under  the  missionaries  the  natives  used 
plionetic^  signs  to  aid  their  memory  in  remembering 
abstract  words,  a  method  also  recognized  in  the  pre- 
served paintings  for  designation  of  names.  The  sys- 
tem is  apparently  of  native  origin.  The  Maya  writing 
is  still  more  phonetic  in  its  character. 


■■5* 


M 


HISTORY  AND  ASXnOXOMY. 


37 


tl  wliicli 

oiij^  the 
le  saiuo 


(  temple 
■ry  (juar- 
:lie  maii- 
?  schools 
d  for  the 
religion, 
qtri'tini^ 
gyinnas- 
)  of  this 
botanical 
the  pro- 
cr  orna- 
wcalthy. 
xteut  by 
)hc  form, 
win-j-  it-i 
ires  pv'r- 


gam  for 

•ecorcls, 

1.  .]  atl- 

form  of 

ihabutio 

10  repro- 

are  pho- 

lic  .signs 

strongly 

distiiH'fc 

studying 

vcs  used 

nnboring 

the  pro- 

Tho  sys- 

.1  writing 


The  Nahua  records,  in  hioroglyjjhic  characters,  in- 
clude trarhtional  and  historical  ann;ds,  with  nanujs  and 
gcncalogie  tables  of  kings  and  nobles,  lists  and  tribute 
j'olls  of  i)rovinccs  and  towns,  land  titles,  law  codes, 
court  records,  calendar,  religious  rules  and  I'ites,  edu- 
cational and  mechanical  processes,  etc.  The  hiero- 
glyphic system  was  known  in  its  ordinary  ap})lication 
to  tlu!  (educated  classes,  while  the  priests  alone  under- 
y.inod  it  fidly.  ^J'he  characters  were  })ainted  in  bright 
coliirs,  on  long  strips  of  papei-,  cloth,  or  parchment,  or 
(■;iived  in  stone.  Original  specimens  on  stone  and 
p.ijicr  or  skin  exist  to  prove  the  eflicicncy  of  the  sys- 
1.  Ill  for  all  ordinary  requiren^ents,  and  to  establish  for 
l!ie  race  that  high  index  of  (iil'ure,  the  possession  of 
v.iitten  annals.  The  8[)anish  authorities  ibr  a  long 
lime  had  to  appeal  to  them  to  settl*.!  land  and  other 
suits,  and  ii)  iix  taxes,  etc.  The  several  codices  in 
I'liinipean  libraries  and  nmseums,  with  their  earl>' and 
rci-eut  interjiretation,  have  added  much  valuable  ma- 
terial to  ancient  history;  Ixtlilxochitl  and  others  built 
their  histories  mainly  on  such  paintings. 

The  Nahuas  were  well  acquainted  with  the  move- 
ments of  the  sun,  moon,  and  of  some  })lanets,  and 
observed  and  recorded  eclipses,  though  not  attributing 
them  to  natural  causes.  Their  calendar  divided  tinu; 
into  ages  of  two  cycles,  each  cycle  consisting  of  four 
]Miiods  of  thirteen  j'ears,  the  years  of  each  cycle  being  * 
distinctly  designated  by  signs  and  names  with  mun- 
liers,  in  orderly  arrangement,  as  shown  on  their  scul}»t- 
ured  stone>.  The  civil  vearwas  divided  into  ei'-'iiteen 
mouths  of  twenty  days,  with  iive  e\tr:i  days  to  com- 
jilete  the  year;  and  each  month  into  foui"  sections 
or  weeks.  Extra  days  were  also  added  at  the  end  (^\' 
the  cycle,  so  that  our  calculations  are  closely  a]>- 
]>i'oaclied.  The  day  was  divided  iuto  fixed  periods 
(•  iri'esponding  to  liours.  All  the  above  divisions  had 
their  signs  and  names.  The  ritual  calendar  was  lunar, 
with  twenty  weeks  of  thirteen  days  for  the  year,  all 
dill'eriii'jf  in  their  enumeration,  thouuh  the  names  oi" 


38 


THE  EARLY  AMERICAN  CHRONICLERS. 


!ll|i  I 


i  r  r 


tlie  days  were  the  same  as  in  the  solar  calendar.  Tho 
system  of  uumeratiou  was  simple  and  comprehensive, 
without  limit  to  the  numbers  that  could  be  expressed; 
and  so  were  the  signs  for  them.  It  was  essentially 
decimal. 

These  are  some  few  instances  of  Nahua  culture 
which  might  easily  be  extended  to  fill  a  volume  al"ter 
all  exaggeration  has  been  thrown  out;  and  all  this, 
be  it  remembered,  was  the  condition  of  things  f<jur 
hundred  years  ago.  Compare  it  with  the  European 
civilization  or  semi-civilization  of  that  day  on  the  one 
hand,  and  with  the  savagism  of  tho  Iroquois  and 
(3jib\vays  on  the  other,  and  then  judge  which  of  the 
two  it  most  resembled. 


dar.  Tho 
"ehcnsivc, 
ixprcSHcd ; 
isscntially 

a  culture 
unic  al'tcr 
1  all  this, 
liiiufs  tour 
European 
u  the  one 
:(Uois  and 
ich  of  the 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  NEW   CIVILIZATION. 

Aiiuing  men  valor  and  pruiloiieo  are  seldom  mot  with,  and  of  all  humaa 
fcxitllouciud  justice  i.s  still  more  uucomuioii. 

—Pl„l„r<-h. 

Amidst  tho  seemingly  fortuitous  flight  of  time  and 
evi»hition  of  nations,  we  may  re.st  assured  of  some 
things  that  they  are  tolerably  certain  to  come  to  pass. 
Tliore  arc  a  few  simple  and  self-evident  j)ropositions 
wliicli  are  sure  to  work  themselves  out  in  certahi  sim- 
ple and  self-evi(h'nt  results. 

For  example,  satisfied  that  from  the  once  cliaotic 
universe  this  planet  emerged  in  a  crude  uninliabited 
state  ;  that  the  cooling  process  is  yet  going  on,  and 
the  plants  and  animals  engiMideredhavcnotyet  reached 
perfection ;  that  the  once  wild  humanity  is  gradually  be- 
coming what  is  called  ^xvilized,  the  human  intellect 
slowly  extending  its  sway  over  all  the  earth;  satisfied 
of  these  and  other  like  phenomena,  we  may  know  that 
it  is  oidy  a  question  of  more  time,  a  further  progress, 
a  yet  more  powerful  reign  of  mind,  when  there  will 
be  no  more  savagism,  measured  by  the  standard  of 
to-day;  when  a  liiglier  than  tlie  present  culture  will 
extend  to  the  uttermost  })arts  of  tlie  earth,  wlien  a 
culture  more  refined  than  ever  yet  tlio  world  has  wit- 
iK'Sscd,  intellectual  domination  more  extended  and 
(•oini)l(;to,  science,  literature,  and  tlie  arts  more  elevated 
and  all-compelling  than  ever  has  been  or  at  present  is 
dreamed  of  will  develop  upcm  these  shores,  upon  this 
western  eartli's  end,  this  terminus  of  the  grand  pro- 
gressional  highway  from  the  oriental  cradle  of  civili- 
zation to  the  farthest  occidental  reach  of  firm  land. 

(  o'i  ) 


40 


THE  NEW  CIVILIZATION. 


:  I 

mmr 


"If 


11:1)' 

:ii:!ii!i' 


(3f  old,  proplicts  spake  of  a  new  heaven  and  a  new 
eartli ;  we  may  licro  predict  with  far  better  reason  a 
New  Civilization. 

If  the  future  can  in  any  degree  he  determined  from 
the  past — and  upon  this  doctrine  man  bases  every  rule 
of  action;  if,  in  the  progress  of  human  affairs,  the  de- 
velopment of  intellect,  the  evolution  of  societies,  there 
is  anything  like  method  or  law,  by  which  from  what 
has  been  we  may  judge  to  some  extent  of  what  will 
be,  then  we  may  know  that  hereupon  and  around  this 
western  point  of  the  temperate  zone  man's  highest  and 
ultimate  endeavor  is  to  be  achieved. 

For  the  tide  of  intelliijence  havinfj  ever  been  from 
east  to  west,  and  the  ultimate  west  having  been  at- 
tained, civilization  nmst  pause  in  its  migration,  and 
cither  turn  backward  or  work  out  its  salvation  on  this 
ground.  Hitherto  there  has  been  no  turning  back ; 
tlie  east  has  ever  declined  as  the  west  has  advanced, 
oriental  peo[)les  having  lapsed  toward  barbarism,  and 
oriental  cities  being  well-nigh  dead. 

That  away  back  in  the  dim  prehistoric  there  may 
have  been  movements  of  peoples  other  than  those 
given  in  orthodox  st(ny,  or  origins  of  race,  or  cradles 
of  civilization  otlier  than  those  generally  accepted, 
docs  not  affect  the  fact ;  indeed,  we  can  })lainly  trace 
the  westward  current  for  thirty  or  forty  centuries,  and 
it  has  not  wholly  ceased  flowing  yet. 

The  classic  nations  of  the  Mediterranean  preserve 
the  tradition  of  their  respective  phases  of  the  Aryan 
migration,  with  the  elaborations  prompted  by  romance 
and  vanity,  as  in  ^neas,  who  with  his  followers,  witli 
sacred  fire  and  the  national  nods  of  Trov,  set  out  for 
the  unknown  shores  of  Hesperia.  The  east  is  known, 
though  dimly,  by  means  of  maintained  commercial 
relations,  while  the  west  became  the  object  of  curios- 
ity and  attraction,  to  which  mystery  lent  a  veneration 
which  stands  revealed  in  the  assimiment  here  of  the 
happy  abode  of  the  Hesperides. 

The  incentives  for  the  movement  must  ever  remain 


4i 


PAST   A\I)   FUTURE. 


41 


4 


A 


r  remain 


a  dim  conjorturc.  Sciciu  u  points  to  America  as  the 
oldest  continent,  peopk'd  percliancc  from  now  sub- 
mcii^ed  areas,  of  wliicli  the  Azores  and  Cape  Yerde 
islands  present  vestiges  on  one  side,  and  l\)lynesia  on 
the  other.  The  rcsend)lanco  of  race-types  on  either 
side  of  Bering  strait  confirms  the  natural  supposition 
of  ancient  intercourse  in  this  quarter.  The  oceans 
interposed  obstacles  well-nigh  insurmountable  to  mi- 
grations from  America,  save  by  the  north-western  ap- 
proach to  Asia.  In  times  of  more  favorable  climatic 
conditions,  this  route  may  have  been  a  great  highway, 
altliougli  long  shice  closed  by  its  winters,  and  its  dreary, 
hanen  surroundings. 

Whether  or  not  we  accept  one  common  origin  for 
mankind,  or  a  migration  to  Asia  from  America,  or 
still  older  lost  continents,  the  westward  advance  from 
the  Asiatic  table-lands  is  generally  ad()})tetl.  The  re- 
cent theory  of  a  Scandinavian  source  fur  the  Aryans 
has  not  presented  itself  in  sufficiently  strong  array  to 
merit  comparison  with  the  other.  Tlie  Phoenician 
migration  of  traders  and  colonizers  alone  forms  a 
more  imposing  evidence  of  the  westwaid  movement 
than  any  to  be  found  in  favor  of  the  south-eastward. 

Among  tiie  incentives  for  the  start  of  the  migration 
must  he  considered,  as  now,  not  alone  over-population, 
Avar,  famine,  and  other  disastrous  incidents,  but  the 
attractions  also  of  nomad  life  on  the  plains,  and  the 
inspiriting  influence  of  travel.  Fron)  the  interior 
of  Asia  swept  several  great  invading  hosts  within  his- 
toric times.  Theinstilled  jnission  forroaming,  fostered 
l)y  the  possession  of  beasts  of  burden,  found  a  stinmlus 
in  the  swiftness  of  the  animals  wherein  lay  alike  safety 
and  the  tcinptation  to  daring  feats.  The  pressure  of 
such  restless  peoples  was  suflicient  in  itself  to  compel 
tlicir  more  settled  neighbors  to  seek  a  new  home, 
wliilc  the  resources  of  richer  nations,b(n'dering  on  the 
ocean  and  its  fertilizing  tributaries,  served  as  an  allure- 
ment to  raid  and  conquest,  from  which  China  and 
India  suffered  in  common  with  occidental  rey-ions. 


42 


TUE  NEW  CIVlLIZiVnON. 


Tlie  direction  of  advance  from  tlic  Asiatic  plateaux 
may  luive  Ikjoii  in  a  mtja.surt!  indicated  by  the  course  of 
tlie  sun,  wliich  in  tlie  sjilondor  t)f  its  wcHtorn  retreat 
hold  forth  an  entrancin*^  promise  to  the  toiler  as  he 
sank  to  rest  and  meditation  after  the  day's  labor.  It 
is  evident,  however,  that  the  route  westward  was  less 
obstructed  than  tliose  to  the  cast  and  south,  for  here 
interposed  lofty  moutitain  rant^es,  the  bulwark  of  com- 
pact settlements  reachin!^  to  the  ocean.  In  these 
directions  the  proximity  of  the  sea  placed  a  bar  to 
advance.  For  that  matter,  the  exodus  from  the  in- 
torii^r  plains  overran  the  continent  in  all  directit)ns, 
hito  Kathai,  Hindostan,  and  Persia ;  but  it  was  loft 
to  the  highest  race,  the  Aryan,  to  follow  the  guiding 
sun  mainly  along  an  equable  zone,  whose  conditions 
were  best  ada})ted  to  the  unfolding  of  culture.  The 
fructifying  element  lay  in  the  movement,  and  the  con- 
se<pient  contact  with  different  peoples  and  institutions, 
to  bo  absorl)ed  during  a  more  or  less  prolonged  stay, 
together  with  the  blood-infusion  of  the  conquered. 
Thus  the  eye  of  })rogress  with  its  inquiring  gaze,  and 
the  arm  of  progress  with  its  romance  and  revelations, 
have  ever  been  directed  toward  the  setting  sun. 

Still  another  explanation  for  the  westward  march 
is  furnished  by  the  unfolding  of  settlements  in  the 
United  States  of  America.  The  first  colonists  occu- 
pied the  coast  region.  Later  comers  were  obliged  to 
extend  themselves  along  the  rivers  inland.  The 
movement  contiimed  westward  in  quest  of  new  lands, 
until  the  inner  border  peoples,  cranqjod  for  lack  of 
outlet,  beijan  to  look  toward  the  Pacific  coast  for  re- 
lief  The  construction  of  railways  has  rendered  less 
attractive  or  important  the  sea-shore,  with  its  pre- 
viously better  means  for  intercourse  and  trade,  and  its 
more  equable  temperature. 

Thus  in  Asia,  whether  originating  in  an  older  con- 
tinent or  not,  the  people  naturally  clustered  along  the 
coast  and  the  great  river  channels,  with  their  addi- 
tional attractions  of  fish.     The  gradual  filling  up  of 


1 

I 


THE  EAST  AND  THE  \\  EST. 


43 


China  aucl  India  loft  tlic  Aryans  among  others  as  a 
horder  tribe  of  the  interior.  Tlie  wealth  of  the  In- 
dian iH'ninsulas  served  to  increase  the  attractions  for 
the  seaboards,  and  lend  an  incentive  to  the  march. 
Thus  was  occupied  every  attractive  point  westward. 
On  reaching  Africa,  the  desert  on  one  side,  and  the 
mountains  and  ecjuatorial  heat  on  the  other,  turned 
the  next  pliase  of  tlie  movement  from  the  Nile  ranges, 
along  the  northern  shores  of  the  Mediterranean,  until 
the  Atlantic  was  reached.  A  fresh  field  being  opened 
ill  America,  social  and  political  troubles  antl  as[iira- 
tious  prompted  another  advance,  with  a  still  greater 
intellectual  development.  The  highest  culture  is 
found  always  along  the  paths  of  trade,  with  its  sdnm- 
latiiig  intercourse,  along  the  highway  from  India  to 
PhaMiicia,  along  the  [)eninsula  of  the  northern  ^Mi'di- 
teiiaiu-an,  thence  to  spread  by  ct)lonization  westward 
and  north,  to  be  rooted  among  the  slower  yet  stronger 
peoples  b(trdering  on  the  North  Sea. 

The  most  strikinsx  i)ro«;ress  was  attained  with  the 
opening  of  new  fields  in  America,  attended  by  more 
daring  and  inspiriting.voyagesand  expeditions,  and  by 
a  battling  with  nature  hi  the  founding  of  settlements, 
whidi  led  to  a  practical  self-reliance  and  inventive 
faculty,.ever  the  sources  of  the  widest  develo[)nient. 
The  acquisition  of  vacant  land  on  which  to  exert  in- 
telligent energy  was  a  strong  factor  in  the  advance, 
and  the  location  of  progressive  peoples  along  the  tem- 
piiate  belt  gave  stimulus  to  efl'orts,  as  did  the  libera- 
tion from  civil  and  ecclesiastical  restraint,  with  the 
piivilege  to  freely  think  and  act  and  work  out  the 
prompthigs  of  laudable  aspirations. 

This  check  to  liberty,  and  the  lack  of  free  land,  tended 
to  steep  the  middle  ages  of  Europe  in  stagnation, 
while  the  encirclinyr  Mohannnedans,  of  inferior  traits 
and  abilities,  under  stinmlatiuij  movement  and  inter- 
course,  conquest  and  empire  building,  were  develophig 
to  an  exceptional  degree  of  culture.  The  two  obsta- 
cles removed,   Europe  resumed  her  onward   march, 


THE  NEW  CIVILrZATION. 


wliilo  tliG  Sararons,  (Icprlvod  of  tliesc  honofits,  fell  be- 
liiiul.  Tlu!  cncrj^y  latent  in  man  nct-ds  only  projur 
incentive  to  manifest  itself  with  eil'ect ;  but  the  nature 
of  the  incentive  varies  somewhat  as  illustrated  by 
the  followers  of  the  Bible  and  the  Koran.  The  pres- 
ent advance  is  marked  especially  by  the  elevation  of 
the  masses,  by  means  of  inventions  and  ac{|uis'ition 
of  landed  interest. 

It  is  a  matter  worthy  of  consideration,  that  ever 
since  the  world  was  made  down  to  the  present  time, 
there  have  been  untenanted  lands  for  a  crowded  hu- 
manity to  overflow  into,  swarminiif  places  for  tlie  race; 
that  althouiih  as  men  futliomctl  science  more  and 
mor(\  and  became  skilled  in  the  arts,  and  assumed 
more  and  more  a  mastery  over  nature,  tliey  required 
less  rf)om,  yet  the  area  occuj)ied  was  ever  filling  up 
with  human  beings,  whom  land  could  not  adequately 
sustain,  or  developm(nit  provide  for,  tlius  rendering 
constantly  necessary  new  lands  or  else  a  curtailment 
of  p()[)ulation. 

The  thory  of  population  which  leaves  no  standing- 
room  for  further  comers  is  findin»jc  realization  faster 
than  its  originators  imagined.  It  is  but  a  question  of 
time  when  the  race  increase  nmst  stop,  if  not  by  one 
means  then  by  another.  Until  now  the  wmld  has 
had  a  west,  where  good  land  could  be  had  for  the 
taking;  there  is  not  now  left  a  single  acre  of  the  kind. 
True,  our  western  lands  for  the  present  will  hold  many 
more  people,  and  poorer  lands  will  be  utilized,  but  all 
the  same  the  end  will  come — the  end  of  the  world,  it 
may  be,  as  it  is  noticeable  that  in  the  more  advanced 
staocs  of  national  a<>e  and  culture,  increase  is  first 
arrested,  and  then  population  retrogrades. 


What  is  civilization?  The  question  has  often  been 
asked,  but  never  answered.  Nor  can  it  be  satisfac- 
torily explained  until  human  knowledge  has  advanced 
much  farther,  has,  indeed,  entered  the  domain  of  om- 
niscience. The  irrepressible  unfolding  of  intellect  stands 


WHAT   IS   CIVILIZATION? 


,.  the  same  category  with  the  otluT  <;ivat  unknowable 
invstcrics  of  tlie  universe.  AVhat  is  life  i  what  intel- 
Itrt^  Ifow  .shall  bo  unravelled  the  tan;^;le(l  thread  of 
t)ri'iin  and  destiny?  The  self-conseiousness  wlilch 
makes  man  know  that  he  is,  tlie  reasoning  faculties 
which  tell  hun  that  his  mind  is  sometiung  diU'erent 
tV.iin  mere  brute  intelligence,  his  aH|)irations  something 
diU'crent  from,  if  not,  hulced,  higher  and  more  lasting 
th;ni  mere  brute  instinct,  and  that  existi'uce  has  its 
si.;nifi<'anc(;  to  him — this  consciousness  revt-als  to  the 
Miissessor  at  once  an  ocean  of  knowledge  and  an  eter- 
nity of  despair. 

Although  the  offspring  of  man  is  the  most  lu'lpless 
an<l  apparently  senseless  of  all  animals  during  the  long 
period  of  its  infant  existence,  it  makes  rapid  strides 
afterwards.  Measure  by  this  standaid  the  llfo  of 
the  human  race,  and  it  has  many  millions  of  years 
vet  to  live  before  it  knows  all  there  is  to  In-  known, 
and  can  do  all  there  is  to  be  done;  so  slowly  unfolds 
the  intellect,  so  slowlv  nature  reveals  herself  to  man! 
It  seems  to  have  taken  a  long  time  before  man  could 
gain  a  |)ositlon  distinct  from  the  brute  creation.  It 
is  ditticult  to  conceive  the  point  of  separation,  or  to 
apply  the  ordinary  tests  to  distinguish  absolute  savag- 
isni  from  incipient  civilization.  We  say  that  wiien 
man,  with  intellect  still  a  germ,  indistinguishable  from 
instinct,  bends  branches  and  places  sticks  and  bark  so 
as  tlie  better  to  shelter  himself;  the  moment  he  seizes 
a  club  to  assist  him  in  cajituring  food,  he  has  taken 
the  first  step  from  savagism  toward  civilization;  and 
yet  many  animals  do  this,  and  more,  animals  which 
never  advance  further.  The  difference  is  more 
marked,  however,  when  man,  after  deliberately  erect- 
ing for  himself  a  hut,  sits  down  before  it,  and  shar[)ens 
one  end  of  his  stick,  or  in  one  end  of  it  makes  a  slit, 
ill  which  he  fastens  a  stone  so  that  one  end  shall  be 
the  heavier,  or  perhaps  sharpens  the  stone  before  he 
ties  it  to  a  stick  in  the  form  of  a  hatchet,  notwith- 
standing sticks  and  stones  when  taken  apart  are  used 


46 


THE  NEW  CIVILIZATION. 


by  many  animals  as  weapons.  Let  tlie  sharpened 
end  of  tlie  stick  be  hardened  in  the  fire,  tipped  with 
])ois(»n,  or  with  sharpened  flint,  or  botli,  and  let  a 
bow  be  strmig  with  which  to  drive  the  feathered  dart, 
and  a  stride  has  been  made  which  satisfies  hmnanity 
perl  laps  for  thousands  of  years. 

The  advance  may  be  slow.  Nevertheless,  there  is 
an  advance  ;  and  herein  lies  the  diflcrence  between 
man  and  brute.  The  one,  with  the  aid  of  reason,  im- 
proves his  weapons,  wliile  the  other  does  not.  And 
this  iniprovhig  is  civilization.  Here  may  be  noticed 
the  anomaly  in  man  emeroing  from  a  purely  primitive 
state,  that  while  decoration  is  before  dress,  in  teni- 
perat(!  zones  at  least,  in  all  of  his  otlier  unfoldings, 
the  practical  precedes  tlie  ornamental.  In  the  very 
fact  lliat  the  naked  wild  man  isof  all  animalsthe  least 
fitted  by  nature  to  provide  for  himself  his  fir.st  necessity, 
food,  lies  the  strongest  of  hnpulses  for  him  to  abandon 
savagism,  and  set  out  on  his  endless  journey  toward 
civilization — endless,  because  civilization  is  not  an  end 
but  an  aim.  If  the  world  stands  ten  thousand  years 
longer,  and  men  continue  to  come  and  go  as  of  old, 
then  we  of  to-day  are  savages  as  compared  with  the 
more  cultured  [)eople  of  that  remote  period.  As  no- 
where on  the  globe  mankind  are  now  born  into  a 
state  of  absolute  savaijjisin,  so  nowhere  can  their 
beginning  here  be  made  in  an  atmosphere  of  perfect 
civilization. 

We  may  go  further  and  say  with  truth  and  reason 
of  the  latest  civilization,  that  if  it  be  the  foremost  on 
the  eartii  of  its  da}',  it  nuist  of  necessity  be  the  far- 
thest advanced  of  any  that  has  been  before.  It  can 
not  blot  out  all  the  benefits  to  the  race  added  by  its 
predecessors,  and  so  leave  the  world  the  worse.  Civ- 
ilization is  a  progress,  a  perpetual  and  continuous  pro- 
gress, although  the  advance  is  more  marked  at  certain 
tim(>8  and  in  certain  directions.  Such  growth,  like 
that  of  most  things  in  nature,  may  not  be  visible  to 
the  eye,  but  it  is  none  the  less  i)resent.     There  may 


I 


PROGRESS  DURING  THE  DARK  AGE. 


47 


be  apparent  inaction,  or  even  retrogression,  during 
^vIii(•]l  many  tilings  are  forgotten,  and  some  valuable 
arts  lost ;  yet  who  shall  say  ot'any  period,  long  or  short, 
that  here  was  no  advance,  or  tliere  civilization  rested  ( 

It  is  true  that  since  tlic  dawn  of  our  present  de- 
velo[)inent  there  has  been  a  so-calK'd  Dark  Age,  ten 
centuries,  during  which  knowledge  lay  hidden  away 
ill  musty  prison-houses,  and  civilization  slumbered, 
wliile  the  heavens  were  hung  in  black.  But  was 
there  then  really  no  advance  during  these  ten  dark  cen- 
turies ?  Was  there  no  leaven  of  progress  working  in 
society,  no  hidden  processes  going  on,  no  unseen 
changes  which  were  to  yield  mighty  results,  turning 
and  overturning  nations,  and  kneading  the  world  of 
Eui<>|>e  into  new  forms  ?  It  is  true  the  sky  was  chirk, 
and  all  the  earth  incarnadine  with  man's  blood,  shed 
])\-  man  because  of  conceptions  so  absurd,  so  super- 
jaiively  silly  as  to  a})pear  to  us  naught  but  the  woik- 
inus  of  insanitv ;  and  vet  out  of  all  this  wickedness 
and  folly  came  great  good;  out  of  feudalism  the  com- 
pacting of  societies,  out  of  kniglit-eri'antry  the  eleva- 
tion of  woman,  out  of  the  crusades  tlu'  general  bieak- 
ing  down  of  barriers,  the  cxi)losion  of  fallacies,  and  the 
out-spreading  of  knowledge,  not  to  mention  the  tem- 
poiary  ascendancy  of  ]Mohannn( danism  in  g(  neral 
culture.  Add  the  high  achievements  of  art  and 
science,  culminating  in  the  inxcntions  of  ounpowder 
and  printing,  the  adaptation  of  the  maiiner's  compass 
to  navigation,  which  was  followed  by  the  discovery  of 
a  new  world,  divers  circumnavigations,  and  the  final 
uncovering  of  the  entire  globe.  Such  grand  results, 
the  grandest  the  world  has  evi^r  witnesstd.  could 
hardly  have  arisen  from  a  stagnant  pool,  notwith- 
standing we  are  in  the  habit  of  calling  it  thi'  Daik 
Age  of  general  depression,  v/hcn  the  intellect  of  man 
lay  dormant. 

Vet,  while  the  period  following  the  opeinng  of 
America  was  indeed  an  a<j:c  of  i)rotjress,  aside  from 
the  few  great  inventions  menti(.ned,  how  insignificant 


4S 


THE  NE\V  CIVILIZATION. 


I 


have  been  tlic  developments  of  the  three  past  centu- 
ries as  compared  with  the  achievements  massed  within 
five  decades  of  tlie  present  century,  the  era  of  steam 
and  steel.  Still  greater  prospects  of  devchtpment 
are  pi'omised  by  electricity  alone,  which  is  as  yet  in 
its  infancy ;  and  who  shall  venture  to  predict  the  ad- 
vance to  be  made  within  the  following  centuries  ? 

Duruig  the  past  few  thousand  years,  for  which 
time  alone  the  doings  of  the  human  race  have  left  any 
record,  men  have  been  nmch  occupied  in  their  migra- 
tions. These  are  now  for  the  most  part  finished,  so 
far  at  least  as  large  united  boches  are  concerned.  The 
gn.'at  migrations  of  the  human  race  are  ended.  There 
will  continue,  more  than  ever  before,  a  restless  moving 
hither  and  thither  over  the  face  of  the  earth  of  in- 
dividuals and  small  parties;  but  for  a  nation,  or  any 
consider-ible  portion  of  a  nation,  to  arise,  go  forth, 
and  con(|Uer,  despoil,  and  subjugate  or  drive  out  an- 
other nation,  will  never  again  be  done  under  the  pres- 
ent onk-r  of  things.  The  general  connningling  of 
the  peo[)les  of  the  earth  es.sentially  prohil)it  such. 
usur[)ation.  Never  was  intercourse  so  wide-s[)re'.id 
and  expeditious  as  now;  n(n'er  was  less  conspicuous 
the  idea  of  ra<'e  robbery  and  national  spoliation. 

The  last  great  migration  was  to  California,  the 
western  world's  end,  completing  the  cycle  of  Aryan 
wanderings.  Far  less  voluminous  and  cosmopolitan 
were  the  movements  tt)ward  Australia  and  Africa. 
On  the  Pacific  coast  met  the  representatives  of 
nations  from  all  quarters  to  form  a  new  organization, 
bringing  into  contribution  the  choicest  traits  and  ac- 
quirements. What  Egyptian  and  west  Asiatic  civiliza- 
tion did  ft»r  (Ireece,  what  (irreece  did  for  Home,  what 


U 


ome  (iKl 


lor 


West( 


ern    Europe, 


all  tl 


le  woi 


Id  1 


las 


done  for  these  Pacific  States. 

The  site  of  this  new  civilization,  which  but  lately 
seemed  far  removed  from  regions  of  retinement  and 
the  higher  culture,  lb  gradually  becoming  the  centre 


1 


DEAD  NATIOXS. 


4» 


of  the  most  energetic  material  and  intellectual  progress 
that  mav  be  found  anions'  the  nati«)n's  of  tlie  eartli 
t()-(lav.  The  stranger  coninig  hither  from  any  part 
of  tlie  world  may  find  more  congenial  companionsliip, 
ni()i<'  tliat  is  likf  himself  and  his  early  lifo  than  in  any 
otlni"  comnmnity.  lie  finds  himself  at  home,  envi- 
rmii'd  hy  an  atmosphere  in  which  his  true  inwardness 
mav  hest  thrive,  and  lie  may  trans])lant  himself  into 
this  new  and  natural  civilization  and  grow  as  if  born 
ill  it. 

Following  the  law  of  progress,  other  things  l)eing 
e(|ii;d,  the  latest  civilization  is  tlie  ntost  powerful,  and 
l.rroini's  the  world's  master.  It  is  most  ])owerful  be- 
ciiuse  of  its  superior  knowledge,  its  superior  mental 
foici'.  which  breeds  mechanical  force  surmounting  the 
fdivcs  of  other  pe()})les  and  of  nature,  '^ilie  new  civili- 
/.;itiiiii  lias  for  its  guide  all  the  recorded  experiences 
of  oilier  civilizations.  To  tliese  world-wide;  and  ac- 
cumulated exi)eriences  it  may  add  its  own  intuitions 
and  inventions,  and  while  avoiding  tlu^  errors  of  oth- 
eis  it  may  profit  by  the  wisdom  of  the  }>ast. 

The  train  of  thought  started  in  the  east  has  ever 
expanded  in  its  westward  advance.  Each  succeeding 
generation  has  surpassed  the  preceding.  Nevei-the- 
K'^^s.  the  self-esteem  and  iirestigeof  i\<xo  has  naturallv 
sought  to  assert  itself  over  youth  ;  the  parent  has 
striven  to  maintain  its  authority  over  the  child.  As 
licfore  intimated,  since  the  first  appearance  of  ci\iliza- 
tinii  ill  Kuroj)o,  and  indeed  before  it  left  Asia,  it  has 
In  (II  the  ten<lency  of  the  east  to  rule  the  west.  Al- 
\va\  .s  further  advanc(>d  in  cultur(>,  superior  in  the  arts 
and  sciences,  the  peoj)le  of  the  east  have  ever  assumed 
it  as  a  divine  right  to  tyrannize  over  those  of  the  west, 
to  fisten  upon  them  not  alone  their  social  customs, 
and  their  mechanical  contrivances,  but  their  laws, 
their  literature,  their  modes  of  thought,  and  their  rc^ 
hgloiis  belii'fs. 

When  Europeans  l)roke  the  boundaries  of  time,  tra- 
versed the  Sea  of  Darkness,  and  ft)und  a  strange  \^vo- 

KSSAYK   AND    Ml»(  l.LI.AN  V        I 


so 


THE  NEW  CIVILIZATION. 


pie  in  their  new  India,  the  same  old  story  was 
repeated.  The  nations  of  America  were  less  powerful 
than  those  of  Europe  ;  and  we  well  know  the  inex- 
orable law  of  nature,  that  tlio  weaker  must  give  way 
to  the  stronger.  The  Indians  were  naked  ;  their 
weapons  were  crude  and  ineffectual ;  they  had  neither 
steel  nor  guiipowdor;  they  were  simple-minded,  su- 
perstitious, at  war  one  with  another,  easily  played 
ui)on  ;  and  finally,  with  no  great  difficulty,  tliey  were 
suhjugated.  As  matters  of  course  th*^y  must  learn 
the  language  of  the  conquerors,  they  nmst  accept  the 
faitli  and  obey  the  laws  of  the  coiHpierors.  This  was 
demanded  ami  enforced,  all  in  the  way  of  true  right- 
eousness, as  the  will  of  heaven,  as  the  eternal  pur})osc 
of  the  almlu'htv.  God  should  feel  trulv  tjrateful  for 
what  man  has  done  for  him. 

And  (!ven  to  the  present  day  lingers  this  same 
sphit  of  domination,  with  the  diifercnce  that  the  spots 
whereon  appeared  the  oldest  civilizations  are  no  longer 
centres  of  su})erior  intelligence.  Progress  there  lias 
become  withered,  dead,  the  nations  retrograde,  and 
the  people  have  relapsed  into  a  state  morc^  hojiekss 
in  some  respects  than  that  of  savagism.  Thus  the 
seat  of  thnnination  has  shifted  ever  further  westward 
with  the  unfolding  of  civilization,  following  in  the 
path  of  the  select  elements  which  have  cut  loose  from 
eastern  homes  to  flourish  in  fresher  soil. 

Hound  about  the  hypothetical  cradle  of  the  race 
the  very  earth  has  gone  out  with  its  people,  the  for- 
ests are  withered,  and  the  soil  exhausted.  Siva  has 
usurped  the  place  of  Vishnu,  to  assume  sway  over 
lands  once  ns  fair  as  any  which  have  so  long  bec^n 
kept  fri'sh  for  the  new  civilization.  Eden  of  tin'  Eu- 
j)hrates  is  a  desert ;  where  once  grew  the  oaks  of  Bash- 
an  acorns  will  not  sprout ;  the  elysian  fields  which 
once  bordered  the  JVIediterranean,  where  arc  they'^ 

Unlike  the  mouldering  plant  which  fertilizes  its 
successor,  the  decaying  nations  of  the  old  world,  in 
common  with  their  foi-ests  and  fields,  seem  difficult  to 


REVIVAL  OF  MATERIAL  IMrROVEMENT. 


51 


restore.  Like  the  soil  of  the  east,  progress  is  dissi- 
nntcid  rather  than  decayed  ;  for  in  decay  is  life. 

In  practical  enterprise  and  cognate  traits,  whereon 
(lopend  tlic  liighest  unfolding  of  civilization,  America 
is  iicarlv  as  far  in  advance  of  Eurt)pc  as  Europe  is  of 
Asia.  This  relative  excellence  applies  also  to  the 
western  and  Pacific  states,  as  compared  with  the  At- 
lantic seahoard  of  the  United  States.  Behold  the 
etfect  of  open  fields  and  fresh  resources  on  self-reliant 
innu  on  tliis  western  slope,  in  the  transformation  of  a 
wilderness  into  a  series  of  flourishing  states,  with  a 
rapidity,  soundness,  and  perfection  that  stand  unparal- 
leled I  Consider  tlie  impromptu  yet  efficient  organi- 
zitions  of  local  and  general  government;  the  elabora- 
tion of  a  new  system  of  mining  under  the  promptings 
of  necessity,  marked  b}'  inventions  for  sluicing  and 
liydraulics,  in  cribbing,  pumping,  crushing,  a!id  reduc- 
ti.)n,  devices  so  great  as  to  revolutionize!  and  revive 
the  exploitation  of  precious  metals  in  all  })arts  of  the 
world,  the  improvenu-nts  in  lumbering,  which  have 
increased  this  business  to  huge  porportions,  and  l)eno- 
fitt'd  the  world  at  large,  notablv  bv  means  of  the 
Ilunie  and  saw-tooth,  and  the  powerful  and  economic 
mt'thod  and  macjiinery  applicnl  to  agriculture,  which 
as.sisl>>d  tt)  lift  California  within  a  few  vi-ars  to  the 
front  i"iid<  among  wheat  regions.  Similar  advances 
lave  been  maile  in  (>ther  industries,  and  this 
within  the  first  decade  or  two  alter  tlie  birth  of 
tliise  territories  and  states.  Within  the  same  period 
(alifornia  raist'd  herself  from  an  (tl)s('ure  eoloidal 
and  frontier  settlement  to  a  jtosition  of  paramount 
influence  along  the  entire  Pacific  coast,  the  nucleus 
whence  started  the  founders  of  .states,  the  chief  seat 
of  connnercc  iji  the  Occident,  the  school  wluMice  issued 
disciples  to  scatter  the  seed  of  Anglo-Saxon  culture 
ainoiig  the  retrograde  nations  of  the  south  and  the 
orient. 

Turnips  transplanted  from  the  east  to  California 
change  in  their  nature;  so  do  grains  and  grasses,  fruit 


I 
Pi 


* 


i 


i'' 


82 


THE  NEW  CIVUJZATIOX. 


and  livo  stock,  and  likewise  men.  Bone,  sinew, 
brains,  tlie  whole  person  teeming  witli  determinate 
pur[)ose,  comprise  the  lapis  pJiHosoplifmnih  of  Califoriiian 
alcliemists.  Thus  into  the  alenihicof  tliis  licteroLiciie- 
ous  society,  into  this  land  of  broad  possibilities,  came 
many  a  young  farmer  and  mechanic  for  his  refining; 
many  a  busitiess  man  and  scientist. 

In  art,  literature,  and  learning,  we  must  exi)oct  the 
east  for  some  time  yet  to  patronize  the  west.  In 
journalisui  we  nmst  expect  that  as  the  editor  of  the 
London  JfiqJiJn'udrr  regards  the  editor  of  the  New 
York  lIi(jhhh)<Jer  with  disdain,  so  will  the  editor  of 
the  New  York  H/'ghhindrr  have  no  hesitation  in  man- 
ifesting his  contempt  for  whatever  appears  in  tlie 
columns  of  the  Chicago  HigJthindrr  or  the  San  Fran- 
cisco IfigJihhider.  The  eastern  editor  may  be  the 
wiser  man,  or  he  may  not  be  so;  if  the  latter,  he 
hap])ily  does  not  know  it,  and  putting  on  his  cloak  of 
tradition  and  environment,  he  will  continue  to  write 
most  bravely. 

The  east  has  been  so  long  accustomed  to  play  the 
part  of  schoolmaster  that  it  does  not  realize  that  in 
the  west  also  are  things  to  learn  and  brains  to  learn 
tiiem ;  it  does  not  realizes  that  much  of  its  so-called 
learninu;  is  obsolete  or  untrue,  that  manv  of  its  teach- 
ings  are  al)surdly  fallacious  and  fals(\  and  that  the 
first  work  of  western  wisdom  is  to  utilearn  a  large  part 
of  what  it  has  been  taught  by  the  east,  more  especially 
in  regard  to  matters  of  M'hich  no  one  can  know  any- 
thing. If  we  have  not  here  so  much  of  conversational 
refinement  and  ])rudish  formalism,  it  is  because  we  do 
not  want  them,  ]>ref(>rring  a  })hysical  energy  with  un- 
adulterated intellectual  force. 

For  centuries  to  come,  and  henceforth  to  the  end 
for  aught  anyone  can  tell,  the  tendency  of  culture 
will  be  to  concentrate  on  this  Pacific  seaboard,  the 
terminal  of  the  great  Aryan  marcli;  nor  is  this  expec- 
tation without  good  and  reasonable  ground.     Consider 


THE  LATEST  MIf;RATlON. 


63 


nlonc  the  vast  array  of  resources  in  fertile  soil,  mineral 
deposits,  forests,  fish,  and  the  like,  and  a  climate  t)f 
uiisur|)assed  equability  for  fully  twenty  degrees  of 
latitude.  The  choioesc  <»f  these  advantages  unite  in 
CaHfornia,  which, from  its  peculiarly  favorahle  geo- 
ornphic  position  and  fine  harbors,will  ever  sustain  it- 
self as  a  great  entrepot  for  traile  between  the  orient 
and  the  Australasias, and  the  vast  range  of  states  and 
countries  eastward. 

This  ])rospect  of  a  great  future  brings  forward  one 
more  point  for  consideration.  There  is  a  unity  of  hi- 
terests  among  the  nations  bordering  the  Pacific  side 
of  the  continent  which  circumstances  are  just  now  be- 
ginning fully  to  develop.  Time  brings  to  ])ass  many 
wonderful  things.  The  eastern  side  of  America  does 
not  always  regard  the  western  with  a  benignant  eye, 
single  to  the  interests  of  the  nation.  There  are  moun- 
tain barriers  dividing  the  east  from  the  west;  there 
are  broad  [)lacid  waters  inviting  intercourse  between 
the  south  and  the  north.  This  western  strip  of  North 
America  nature  has  made  one  country.  The  same 
world-enwrapping  w^aters  wash  its  entire  shore ;  the 
same  glow  of  sunset  bathes  its  entire  borders.  It 
makes  little  difference  what  the  political  divisions 
may  be,  so  long  as  the  several  states  or  re[)ublics  are 
at  peace  and  harmony,  one  with  another.  Several  in- 
dependent governmcntsalong  thisPacific  seaboard  may 
i)e  better  or  worse  than  one,  according  to  circumstances. 

In  ])roof  of  these  premises,  we  see  already  com- 
nieneed  a  migration  different  from  anv  which  has 
preceded  it;  a  migration,  not  for  gold,  (»r  furs,  or  coii- 
(juest,  or  religion,  by  adventurers,  soldiers,  jiriests,  or 
jirltrymen,  but  by  persons  of  wealth  and  iiiti-lligence 
tV.im  the  more  inhospitable  climates  of  tlie  east  and 
I']uro[)c,  who  come  hither  for  health  and  pleasure  an<l 
happv  homes.  Alreadv  has  beiiun  the  New  Civiliza- 
tion.  And  when  decay  comes  here,  will  the  western 
sunset  be  followed  by  a  new  sunrise  in  the  east,  or 
wih  the  world  be  rejuvenated  by  a  new  cataclysm? 


CHAPTER  III. 

ROOT  DIGfJKRS  AND  GOLD  DIGGERS. 

Con  Icgno  li'gno  npr;iiiga  niai  iinii  t-iuao 
Lortc  cosi:  oiid'ei,  coiiiu  duo  liocflii, 
Cozzaru  insiuiiic,  tiiub'ira  gli  viusu. 

—Dvir  Inferno. 

One  liot  day  in  July  1848,  such  as  tlie  niiddlc  prong 
of  tho  American  river  has  long  been  subject  to, 
perclied  upon  one  of  tlie  high  boulders  time  had 
tumbled  into  the  defile,  sat  a  philosophic  savage,  his 
hairless  chin  resting  on  his  naked  knees,  his  bony 
hands  clas])ed  over  his  bushy  head,  and  liis  black 
eyes  gleaming  with  dim  intelligence  as  they  strained 
tlieir  powers  to  encompass  the  scene  before  him.  On 
either  side,  scattered  up  tho  stream  and  down  it,  far 
as  tho  eye  could  reach  and  until  the  stecl-and-silvcr 
band  was  lost  behind  preci[)itous  banks,  were  strange 
beings  engaged  in  a  strange  business. 

Some  were  in  red  and  black,  some  in  white  and 
gray;  many  were  almost  as  naked  as  himself,  their 
bare  arms  and  le<4S  whiter  than  the  white  stones  over 
which  the  waters  skipped.  Crawling  between  the 
rocks,  and  turning  up  the  red  earth,  and  kneading 
with  their  hands  the  nmd  they  made,  through  the 
dry  baked  air  tremulous  with  rarefactions,  they  looked 
not  unlike  varieojated  bui^s  rolling:  their  delectable 
dung-balls.  Some  were  swinirino;  over  their  heads 
largo  double-pronged  clubs,  and  smiting  the  earth 
therewith  ;  some  were  standing  bare-legged  and  bare- 
armed  in  the  rushing  waters,  peering  into  them  as  if 
to  read  their  records  or  fathom  the  secrets  of  the 
mountains ;  son^e  were  on  their  knees  in  an  attitude 


THE   MKIHTATIVE   SAVAOE. 


05 


of  worsliip  or  supplication;  otlicrs  lay  like  lizards  on 
ilio  rocks  pcckiiii,'  Avith  tlicir  knives.  Sonio  with 
shovels  were  cli,uf;j;ing  in  the  sands  and  gravel,  leaving 
hesido  tlic  earth-heaps  holes  half  filled  with  water. 

"These  must  be  graves,"  the  savage  thought,  "]>re- 
pared  before  the  coming  sacrifice."  liight,  my  big- 
li[>ped  brother  1  These  are  graves,  every  one  of 
tlieiii,  graves  of  sense  and  soul,  of  high  hopes  and 
i\n\  better  quality  of  manhood.  Indeed,  of  all  this 
fine  array  of  mind-driven  mechanism,  of  beings  that 
ill  tills  wilderness  might  rise  to  the  full  .stature  of 
gods  were  they  not  under  curse  to  crawl  about  these 
(■.'inoiis  seri)entinc  upon  their  bellies;  of  all  of  thom, 
I  s;iy,  tliere  will  be  little  left  this  day  twelve-month 
not  bulled  in  these  holes.  For  most  of  the  gold  the 
foothills  gave,  brought  like  that  of  Nibelungen,  noth- 
iii^-  l)Ut  ill-luck  to  the  possessor. 

"  AVliat  arc  tliev  di^irinjj  for?"  the  meditative 
jiludigiiial  asks  himself.  "^Ty  faithful  wives  dig  roots 
and  so  sustain  the  lives  of  their  liege  lord  and  little 
ones,  as  in  duty  they  arc  ever  bound;  but  these  poor 
pale  fools  will  find  no  nourishment  beneath  ti~ose 
stones.  I  will  tell  them  so.  But  sto})  1  What  is 
that  he  holds  aloft  with  out-stretclicd  arms  midst 
yells  and  waving  of  his  hat,  the  one  more  frantic  than 
the  rest?  JW  the  dried  bones  of  my  grandsire  I 
believe  it  is  the  heavy  yellow  dirt  that  often  as  a 
child  I  gathered  to  see  it  glitter  hi  the  sun,  though 
it  is  not  half  sol)eautiful  for  that  as  tlie  snake's  back. 
Once  I  hannnered  handfuls  of  it  into  a  dish  forcrusli- 
ing  grjisshoppcrs  in,  or  for  boiling  fish,  but  the  stcjnes 
niy  greasy  darlings  hollow  out  arc  better  for  the  one 
jmrpose,  and  their  baskets  for  the  other.  Besides, 
^\  illows  and  grass  arc  easier  worked  than  that  heavy 
stuff.  So  I  kicked  the  old  dish  into  tlie  river  and 
was  jrlad  to  see  it  sink.  The  younsx  chief  tried  that 
same  dirt  for  his  arrow-heads,  but  it  was  not  fit ;  the 
^vonlen  forged  it  into  chains  for  ornaments,  l)ut  there 
was  nothing  ornamental  about  them  ;  so  after  trviug 


M 


ROOT  DIOOERS  AND  (;OLD  DIOfJKRS 


it  for  one  tiling  and  another  it  was  finally  let  ulono  as 
l^ood  for  nothiiiLj. 

"J^ut  heavenly  spirit  1  we  found  that  out  a^^is  aj^t). 
It  must  bo  that  these  white  scranihlcrs  have  not  been 
lonjjf  upon  this  earth  to  bo  so  taken  by  so  poor  a 
glitter.  INIark  their  posture.  Even  their  eyes  are 
turned  downward.  Tiny  eannot  see  the  sun,  wliicli 
is  bii-'hter  than  their  ujold.  And  tlio  stars  are 
brigliter;  and  the  dancing  water,  and  the  purph;  haze 
tliat  lies  on  misty  mountains,  and  the  awful  craggincss 
hereabout  are  a  thousand  times  more  beautiful  and 
grand.  Can  they  eat  this  they  so  covet?  No.  It 
is  good  for  nothing  or  for  very  little  f(tr  which  there 
are  not  other  better  things.  I  liavc  it.  The  stuff 
melts;  I  saw  some  running  down  the  edges  of  my 
dish  when  they  put  the  fire  to  it.  They  want  it  for 
ima*j:es,  for  molten  mnh,  Alas  I  alas  I  that  through- 
out  this  universe  intelligences  yet  exist  possessed  of 
such  insensate  folly." 

Softlv,  bad-smelling  barbarian!  Thouuh  thou  art 
right,  it  is  for  gods  they  want  the  stutf,  and  very 
good  gods  it  makes.  None  of  your  deaf  and  dumb 
effigies,  nor  even  invisible,  impalpable  s[)irits  perched 
on  liigh  01yni])us,  hell-bound,  or  be-hoavened  beyond 
space.  Appeal  to  these  golden  gods  and  they  answer 
you.  Invoke  them  and  forthwith  they  procure  you 
food,  obeisance,  and  etej-ntd  life. 

And  yet  you  question,  tawny  friend,  why  this  insa- 
tiate human  appetite  for  bits  of  yellow  earth,  for  cold, 
dead  metal,  and  why  for  this  more  than  for  any  other 
kind  of  earth  ?  Not  for  its  utility,  sureh%  j'ou  argue  ; 
though  economists  say  that  it  is  an  absolute  ecjuivo- 
lent  as  well  as  a  measure  of  value.  It  is  scarcely 
more  valuable  than  other  metals,  scarcely  more  valua- 
ble hitrinsicallv  than  the  least  of  all  created  things. 
It  is  less  valuable  than  stone,  which  makes  the  moun- 
tains that  rib  and  form  the  valleys,  than  grass  which 
offers  food,  than  soil  which  feeds  the  grass.  For  or- 
nament, if  ornament  be  essential  to  human  happiness, 


I 


PHILOSOPHY  OF  fiOLD. 


87 


slu'lls  or  lauro!  serve  as  wt'll ;  for  plate,  porcelain  is 
lietter.  True,  some  little  of  it  may  he  used  for  filling 
te(«tli,  l)iit  tons  of  it  mij^Hit  be  employed  in  vain  to 
till  the  stomach.  Other  metals  are  just  as  rare,  and 
hcautiful,  and  durable.  "Then  what  magic  power 
lies  wrapped  within  its  molecules?"  you  seem  to 
sav.  "Will  it  heal  the  sick  or  raise  the  dead;  will  it 
even  clothe  or  feed,  or  add  one  comfort  to  naked, 
lioiiseless  humanity  i  Hidden  beneath  its  cold  and 
weiLjhtv  cov(>rin!^  may  we  liopo  to  find  an  elixir  vitse, 
a  fountain  of  youth ;  or  will  it  save  a  soul  from  hell, 
(ir  a  bodv  fi'om  the  |L,^rave  ?  Surely  there  must  be 
smie  innate  virtue  there,  some  p(»wer,  natural  or 
supernatural,  that  thus  brings  intellect  and  all  the 
high  attributes  and  holy  asi)irations  of  intelligent  rea- 
souiii""  creatures  beneath  its  sway." 

Peace,  brute  I  Nothing  of  the  kind.  Yes  and  no. 
Have  I  not  told  you  that  in  the  civilization  which  so 
sago  a  savMge  even  as  yourself  can  but  faintly  com- 
prehend, gold  is  god,  and  a  very  good  god?  All  men 
worship  it,  and  all  women.  It  buys  men  and  it  buys 
women.  It  buys  intellect  and  honor;  it  buys  beauty 
and  cliastity.  There  is  nothing  on  earth  that  it  will 
not  i>urchase,  nor  yet  anything  in  heaven,  or  hi  hell. 
Lucifer  lias  his  broker  on  every  street  corner,  and 
Christ  his  itgent  in  every  pulpit.  All  cry  alike  for 
giild  !  goldl  Men  cannot  live  without  it,  or  die  with- 
out it.  I'liless  he  finds  an  obolus  in  their  mouth  to 
i)av  the  fcrrian'o  over  the  stygian  stream,  Charon  will 
not  pass  tlieni.  You  do  not  know  Charon?  "Well, 
you  shall  know  him  presently.  Charon  is  a  very  good 
god,  but  not  so  good  as  goltl.  Indeed,  gold  is  Charon's 
god,  and  every  god's  god,  as  well  as  every  man's. 
You  are  somewhat  like  Charon,  oh!  sooty  and  filthy! 
Charon  is  he  who,  while  with  Mercury  on  a  visit  for 
a  day  to  the  up[)er  world  to  sec  what  life  was  like, 
wondered  how  num  should  so  wail  while  crossing  Stvx 
when  there  wa;^  so  little  on  earth  to  lose. 

No,  shock-licad  I  gold   is  not  wealth  even,  and  yet 


m 


f!     ;,| 


88  ROOT  WCUJERS  AND  GOLD  DKUiEIlS. 

men  cr[xo,  all  their  wealth  for  it.  Money,  as  intrinsic 
Wt^altli,  has  little  value,  and  ytt  wealth  is  valunl  only 
as  it  can  he  converted  into  money.  Nor  is  it  long 
since  the  doctrine  prevailed  that  money  was  wealth, 
the  only  wealth;  but  after  commerce  and  industry 
had  hegtjjed  f<n"  centuries,  and  men  and  nations  had 
fought  for  the  enforcement  of  this  principle,  the  world 
awoke  one  day  and  found  it  fallacy ;  found  that  money, 
instead  of  being  wealth,  was  oidy  the  attentlant  on 
tratKe  and  not  actual  wealth.  Money  is  synonymous 
neither  with  capital  nor  wealth.  It  is  capital  only 
when  it  is  bought  and  sold  like  any  other  connnodity; 
it  is  wealth  only  according  to  its  worth  as  a  measure 
of  values,  (lold  is  not  value,  or  the  representative 
of  value,  until  it  is  made  such  by  the  stamj)  of  the 
imag(!  and  superscription.  All  men  desire  it,  and  in 
limitless  quantities;  yet  those  who  have  it  are  anx- 
ious to  be  rid  of  it,  as  it  is  the  most  profitless  of  all 
thing's  to  hold. 

Know,  then,  the  truth  of  the  matter,  Oh  I  red- 
painted  and  tattooedl  Long  ago,  before  Adam  Smith 
or  John  Stuart  Mill,  when  those  dit;<j;ers  to  the  i^ods 
down  ther(^  were  little  less  wild  ami  beastly  than  your- 
self,— craving  your  j)ardon, — at  the  histigation  of 
Pluto,  perhaps,  though  some  hold  opinion  that  the 
creator  made  gold  specially  to  be  used  by  man  as  money, 
it  so  hap[)ened  that  a  conventionalism  arose  concerning 
this  metal.  It  was  agreed  between  the  fathers  of  the 
Pharaohs  and  Job's  ancestors,  that  this  heavy  durable 
substance,  chiefly  because  it  was  hard  to  get,  should 
be  baptizicd  into  the  category  of  wealth  ;  nay  more, 
that  it  should  be  endowed  with  the  soul  of  riches,  be 
coined  into  idols,  worshipful  crowned  pieces,  and  be 
called  money,  as  children  in  their  play  cut  [)aper  into 
bits  and  call  it  money,  or  as  certain  tamed  tribes  have 
sought  to  use  for  money  merely  the  name,  without  all 
this  trouble  and  agitation  about  the  metal,  computing 
value  by  means  of  the  idea  instead  of  the  substance. 
Since  which  time  their  descendants  and  ofl'shoots,  that 


THE  MOXKY  INFATUATION. 


60 


is  thoso  of  tlio  Jobs  and  tl»o  Pliaraolis,  liavo  lv<'i)tui) 
the  jok(\  ami  it  aitpcars  tliat  we  of  thi.s  l)(»a.stt'cl  scicu- 
titic  and  economic  ninctccntli-ccntuiy  civilization  can 
do  no  Ijcttor  than  to  keep  it  np.  It  rc(|uiicH  as  nmcli 
liil)(»r  to  find  and  dijjf  a  certain  (jii;  iitity  of  it  as  it  does 
t(»  raise  a  field  of  j^rain,  so  wo  swear  it  to  be  worth  as 
much  as  the  <;rain.  So  subtle  is  its  energy,  that 
ni(»uld(<l  and  milled  into  the  current  (ina^o  of  wealth, 
it  assumes  all  (lualities  and  virtues.  Call  it  land,  and 
it  is  land;  labor,  and  straightway  the  fields  sweat  with 
labor.  It  is  health  and  haitpiness,  it  is  body,  intellect, 
snul,  aye,  and  eternal  salvation.  Thrice  lucky  nietul 
to  be  so  humanly  endowe<l,  so  divinely  in.spired  1  Oh  1 
|ti'ecious  nutal,  how  I  do  lovethool  Oh  1  holy  metal, 
liow  I  do  worship  thee  1 

Tlius  you  see,  thrice  honored  scalper  and  cannibal, 
that  these  men  tlown  among  the  bouklers  are  slaves 
of  a  slave.     To  serve  us  in  our  interchano-es  we  endow 

•  •  •  1 

with  imaginative  nuraculous  power  the  yellow  sub- 
stance which  you  see  them  all  so  cafjerlv  snatchinsv 
fmrn  the  all-unconscious  earth.  They  snatch  it  to 
make  it  their  slave,  but  being  beforehand  deified,  as 
h'  allien  idolators  deify  the  little  images  which  their 
lingers  have  made,  and  their  moutlis  call  gods,  they 
straightway  find  themselves  in  bondage  to  their  ser- 
vant. Sage  though  you  are,  and  a  most  respectable 
wild  man,  you  cannot  yet  fairly  comprehend  this  pe- 
culiarity of  civilized  liberty,  wherein  you  are  permitted 
to  call  yourself  free  only  in  so  far  as  you  are  in  bond- 
a;4e  to  soinethijig.  You  find  one  wife  good,  but  sev- 
i  ral  wivts  better;  one  wife  finds  you  good,  several 
also.  You  may  now  marry  as  many  wives  as  you 
})lease;  as  many  women  as  please  may  marry  you, 
))rovided  you  mutually  agree.  Doubtless  you  will  be 
sur[)ri.sed  to  learn  that  tlie  libert}'  of  civilization  per- 
mits you  but  ont^  wife,  howsoever  half  a  dozen  love 
you.  This  is  technically  called  giving  up  some  portion 
of  your  natural  rights  for  the  benefit  of  all ;  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  it  is  falling  into  the  tyranny  of  the  majority, 


I 


Wk 


4 

n 


00 


ROOT  DIGGERS  AND  GOLD  DIGGERS. 


liowuver  stiipkl  or  unjust  tliat  may  ho.  A<j;ain,  j^ainblc 
coinuiorcially,  and  your  l>ioty  is  not  iiniK'aolatl ;  gamhle 
with  nionev  only,  and  vou  are  an  odious  tliini;.  You 
may  not  marry  but  one  wife,  but  you  may  keep  as 
many  mistresses  as  you  please ;  you  may  keep  them, 
always  in  pro[)er  retirement,  unchidden  by  society, 
though  she  whom  you  have  enticed  into  such  connec- 
tion is  forev^er  anathematized  bv  the  wliole  sisterliood. 
Hut  as  I  said,  you  do  not  understand  such  thini^s, 
and  I  will  confess  it  to  you,  <;reasy  brother,  neither 
do  I. 

Cominijj  back  to  our  gold — for  liowever  nmch  we 
may  des[»iso  it,  we  cannot  do  without  it — we  liave 
seen  that  money  is  wealth  only  by  sutferancc.  jVfeu 
have  agreed  to  call  gold  stanjped  in  a  certain  way 
money,  but  for  all  that,  only  in  as  far  as  it  serves  a 
purpose,  like  anything  useful,  m  so  far  it  is  wealth. 
You  might  ask,  to  what  good  is  tliis  great  expenditure 
of  time  and  energy,  of  health  and  life,  when  we  con- 
sider that  in  ])roportioii  as  the  quantity  of  gold  in 
circulation  increases,  its  v;duo  diminishes,  that  the 
aggregation  of  money  is  not  aggregation  of  wealth, 
and  that  the  uses  of  money  are  not  facilitated  by  in- 
creasing  the  quantity  i  Increase  the  volume  of  money 
and  you  increase  prices;  diminish  the  quantity  in  cir- 
culation and  prices  diminish,  (jlive  to  eyery  man  in 
tiio  world  a  boat-load  of  it,  and  not  one  of  them  is 
the  richer;  take  from  every  man  living  half  he  hath, 
and  not  one  of  them  is  tlu;  poorer.  Why,  then, 
is  th(^  result  of  the  labors  of  these  ditch-gods  re- 
garded with  such  concern  throughout  the  commercial 
world? 

In  answer  to  which  queries,  gentle  sayage,  I  re- 
spectfully refer  you  to  the  libraries.  You  must  ask 
mo  easy  questions  respecting  tlie  jiresent  order  of 
things  among  so-called  civilized  societies  if  you  would 
have  answers.  I  cati  get  no  answers  even  to  many 
simi)lc!  questions.  Some  medium  for  exchanges,  some 
materialization  of  the  spirit  of  commerce  is  certainly 


i 


COMMERCE  AND  CURRENCY. 


61 


1,  <rainl)lc 
[ ;  aaiuiilc 

f  kuep  as 
■up  them, 
Y  sock'ty, 
li  coiinec- 
isUrliood. 
'h  tliiii;j;s, 
iT,  neither 

■  much  we 
—we  liave 
ICC.  ^leii 
itaiii  way- 
it  serves  a 
is  wealth. 
xjuMiditurc 
an  we  coii- 
<»f  onld  ill 
that  the 
of  wealth, 
ited  l)V  ill- 

I' 

of  luomy 
ity  in  eir- 
ly  man  in 
them  is 
he  hath, 
hy,  then, 
i-ujods  re- 
unmercial 

a;j;o,  I  re- 
1  must  ask 
Older  of 
you  would 
I  to  many 
n*i"es,  some 
s  certainly 


I 


convenient,  as  business  is  now  done.  That  there  is 
room  for  imi»roveinent  upon  our  present  system  I  am 
c(iually  certain.  In  extensive  transactions  barter  is  a 
(•umltrous  [)rocess;  there  must  be  money,  but  is  it 
necessary  that  money  should  be  made  of  metals  ?  Is 
it  necessary  for  a  measure  of  values  that  the  world 
should  expeiiil  as  much  labor  as  for  the  values  meas- 
ured^ As  it  is  now,  the  value  of  money  depends 
upon  the  <'ost  of  the  metal  composing  it.  If  the  metal 
exists  in  lai'L^e  <juantities  and  is  easily  gathered,  the 
amount  produced  is  large,  and  its  value  correspond- 
iiiL;lv  1;)W.  Could  a  bushel  of  gold  dust  under  ordi- 
iiaiv  cir(ninistances  be  jiroduced  with  no  more  labor 
than  a  bushel  of  ])otat(K>s,  then  a  bushel  of  jiotatoes 
would  be  worth  a  bushel  of  gold  (hist,  (jiold,  bi'cause 
of  its  scarcity,  and  const^fjuent  cost  of  production,  its 
di\  isihility,  and  its  imperishable  qualities,  was  tacitly 
adopted  ity  almost  all  nations  as  money.  Its  very 
intrinsic  worthlessness  adds  to  its  imp<jrtance  as  a 
make-helii've  value,  for  not  being  used  to  any  great 
extent  for  other  purposes,  it  is  not  subject  to  sudd(>n 
or  violent  fluctuations  in  value.  I  have  actually  heard 
men  ill  the  ]>ulpit,  who  ])rofessed  to  be  teachers  of 
tlieir  fellow-nit^n,  say  that  (Jod  not  only  made  gold 
specially  to  be  used  as  money,  but  tliat  he  kept  some 
of  it  I'.idden,  and  let  men  find  it  oidy  as  coimnerce  re- 
i|uiied  it.  This  may  be  true  in  the  sense  that  he 
made  deatli  that  the  living  might  have  standing-room 
upon  Iho  eartli,  but  being  too  slow  at  his  work  disease 
and  WAV  weiv  si'iit  to  help  him. 

I  say  something  of  the  kind,  as  matters  are  now 
an'Mii4i(I,  si'fiiis  to  be  necessarv.  ^'ou,  vourself, 
taw  ny  sir,  have  felt  the  need  of  a  currency  medium 
ill  .'our  pi'tty  barters.  You  have  taken  shells  and 
beads,  an<l  have  called  tlnMU  moiuy,  making  tlie  long- 
est sin  lis  iiiid  beads  of  ai'crtain  colorto  rejtreseiit  tlic 
higher  values,  jyt  as  otluu's  have  inv(>ste<l  the  yellow 
metal  with  a  greatei-  purchasing  ])ower  than  the  white 
or  the   copper-colored.      Monev  is   a  conveniiiK  e,  a 


ROOT  DiaOEIW  AND  fiOLD  DKKJKRS. 


great  labor-saving  iiiadiliu',  and  would  bo  worth  all 
it  costs  pnnidod  sonietliiiig  clioapor  could  not  be  de- 
vised to  take  its  place.  It  }ternuts  to  the  fullest  ex- 
tent tlu'  division  of  labor;  it  ameliorates  the  condition 
of  man  bv  bringing  to  his  door  the  products  of  distant 
nations;  it  facilitates  industrial  activities,  jironiotes 
national  intercourse,  and  stimulati'S  tlu;  life  blood  of 
society.  But  a  moderate  amount  of  gold,  if  gold  must 
b(^  had  for  a  currency,  is  as  valuable  to  commerce  as 
a  largo  amount.  We  may  safely  say  that  before  the 
dis((>\  ery  of  gold  in  California  the  world  had  sufficient. 
Tlien  W(  i(!  not  the  labor  and  lives  s[)('nt  here  in  add- 
ing to  the  store  to  some  extent  thrown  away  ?  Though 
the  discovery  of  precious  metals  has  hitherto  more 
than  kept  ])ace  with  the  reciuirements  of  commerce, 
yet  so  ehistlc  and  ca[)acious  is  the  maw  of  man  that 
he  has  been  able  to  apj)ropriate  it.  The  time  will 
coni(>,  however,  when  the  mountains  will  be  exhausted 
of  their  gold  and  silver,  which  likewise  shall  droi>  out 
of  commorci'.  California,  Australia,  and  tlu;  Ural 
mountains  together  poured  their  pri'cious  metals  into 
the  world's  cotl'ers,  and  the  value  of  gold  soon  fell  one 
half  antl  more.  We  can  wait  some  time  yet  with 
what  W(!  have,  luit  where  will  we  find  other  Califor- 
nias,  Australias,  and  Ural  mountains  when  wanted^ 
^Fuch  mor(>  Mill  yet  bo  found,  but  there  is  obviously 
a  limit.  When  the  value  of  gold  was  thus  so  seriously 
disturbed,  silver  was  talked  of  as  tlu^  chief  monetaiy 
standard.  TIumi  Nevada  poured  out  her  sevi'ral  thou- 
sand tons  of  silver,  which  became  such  a  drug  in  the 
market  as  to  be  bouulit  Jind  sold  at  from  t)nt>  to  ten 
])er  cent  discount.  Hut  even  Comstock  lodes  have 
bottoms,  and  when  tlu^  end  of  it  all  comes,  perliaj)S 
mankind  will  improve  its  currency. 

lender  the  jtresent  infliction,  and  relatively  in  the 
proportion  of  the  aggn-gate  product  to  the  work  gold 
lias  to  accomplish,  the  race  nmst  earn  its  condbrts 
once  and  more.  First  it  must  till  the  land  so  that  it 
will  bring  forth,  and  then  luiearth  the  gold  with  which 


LOGIC    OF  THE  RIFLE. 


^'orth  all 
i>t  be  de- 
illost  cx- 
coiulitioi) 
)f  ilistant 
])r(>iiiutes 
l)l()()d  of 
.•old  must 
inu'ice  as 
M'toiv  the 
sufticient. 
ro  ill  adil- 
Thciu^h 
:'rt()  iii(»re 
'onniiorce, 
inau   that 
time  will 
exhausted 
1  droj)  out 
th(>    rial 
K'tals  into 
:)U  fell  one 
yet  with 
v  C'ulifor- 
i  wanted  i 
ohviously 
seriously 
monetary 
i'Vi\\  ihou- 
iiijj;  in  the 
me  to  teu 
odes  have 
s,  perhaj)S 

•Iv  in  the 

work  ;j;ol<l 

comforts 

so  that   it 
'ith  which 


to  buy  and  sell  the  product.  Thus  is  avoided  bar- 
ter, which  is  cuuibersome  to  eommeree  and  industries, 
and  every  way  undesirable.  But  so  far  ingenuity 
has  sought  ill  vain  a  cheaper  substitute.  With 
changes  in  the  national  conditions,  however,  there 
will  in  due  time  be  a  change  here.  Just  as  we  shall 
have  now  religions,  new  moralities,  and  new  political 
ordei's,  so  shall  we  have  new  standards  of  value  and 
new  currencl'.'  Meanwhile  we  must  be  thankful  for 
what  we  have,  and  in  our  j)resent  imperfect  state 
accept  it  as  a  blessing,  as  an  aid  to  civilization  and 
all  clioating.  Tiien  let  the  diggers  continue,  let  them 
sweat  ill  death-distilling  labor  until  they  drop  in  the 
graves  of  their  own  digging,  so  that  wealth  may  have 
its  imago  and  commerce  its  superscription.  ]^ut  let 
us  not  pride  ourselves  too  much  on  intellcctaal  supe- 
riority over  tlie  J^haraohs'  and  Jobs'  ancestors  in  this 
ropict.  wlierein  w<'  maki'  so  slight  im[>ro\t'nH'nt. 

And  this,  my  dear  root-digger,  is  civilization,  and 
religion,  and  all  the  rest.  If  you  have  acuteness  of 
iiit'llect,  elo(pi(Mice,  an<l  personal  magni'tism  enough, 
you  may  go  out  even  luuh'r  the  shining  skies  of 
Ani'iMca  and  play  tlu^  prophet  with  the  best  of  those 
tliat  gulled  humanity  fifty  or  five  tht)usand  years 
bck.  You  may  go  to  New  York,  to  London,  to 
Berlin  and  capture  your  thousands.  The  gullibility 
of  mankind  in  its  extent  is  a  fjuestion  not  so  nuudi  of 
jntelli^ence  and  eidightennient  as  of  the  strength  of 
the  impostor.  Some  little  advance  out  of  tin-  subter- 
r;nie.ni  darkness  has  been  mad(!  during  the  last  two 
thousand  vears,  but  it  is  little  comparativelv.  The 
worj.l  still,  in  many  resju'cts.  prefei's  falsi  hood  to 
trutii,  and  men  will  believe  a  lie,  though  their  rea- 
son, if  thev  have  anv.  itlaiidv  t(>lls  them    it  is  such. 


'i»y'  1 


It  is  not  in  the  ]iow(M'  of  the  h.uman  mind  to  conceive 
a  creed  so  absurd  or  diabolical  as  not  to  find  believers 
among  the  most  eidightened  nations  of  the  earth,  and 
tliat  in  proportion  to  the  power  with  which  the  doc- 


trii 


le  IS  enforce 


M 


ROOT  DIGGERS  AND  fiOLD  DIG(;ER.S 


Suddenly  tlie  sharp  crack  of  a  rifle  is  heard,  and 
tlie  meditative  aboriginal  tumbles  from  his  seat  a 
lifelfss  mass  into  the  stream.  A  miner's  mustanijj 
was  inissiuij:  vestcrdav;  some  skulkiu'^  redskin  nuist 
jiave  stolen  it. 

Even  the  ratth^snakc  will  not  strike  until  it  sounds 
the  note  of  battle. 


ird,  and 

seat  a 

nustatvj; 

111  must 

t  sounds 


CHAPTER  IV. 

OUR  TREATMKNT  OF  THE  NATIVE  RACES. 

Qu  'on  iiic  (loiinu  six  liy;nes  t'erites  do  la  main  dc  plus  lioniu'te  hommc,  j'y 

troiivi  r;ii  de  (luoi  le  fairu  iicudrc. 

—  Rkhditu. 

NoTwiTHSTANDiNO  tlio  pretentions  of  Portugal  and 
Kiiuico,  the  two  Americas  in  their  final  occupancy  fell 
largely  to  Spaiu  and  Oreat  Britain.  The  })olicy  of 
tlie  several  nations  in  the  disposal  of  their  prizes  was 
(lin'cted  not  alone  by  tlie  race  characteristics  of  Latin 
and  Teuton,  marked  on  one  side  by  a  laisser-aller  dis- 
|.osition,  on  the  other  by  sclfi.sh  enirgy,  but  by  geo- 
t-raphie  conditions,  which  invited  to  one  section  of 
North  America  the  immigration  of  families  for  agri- 
cuhiiinl  colonii^s,  and  to  otliers  men  wlio  were  ambi- 
tions to  reap  t'ortuncs  at  mining,  fur-hunting,  and  exac- 
tion, with  attendant  instability  and  undefined  intcn- 
liitiis  at  permanent  settlement. 

The  attitu(h>  toward  the  aborigines  of  the  quiet 
and  ics'.'rved  settler,  intent  on  home-building,  differed 
ladiially  from  that  of  the  adventurer  and  fortune- 
hunlrr  aiming  at  speedy  enrichment.  The  one  was 
piiiinjitfil  to  propitiatory  measures  by  regard  for  his 
t  \|)(»s((l  family  and  jiossessjons  ;  the  other  had  noth- 
ing- to  lose  and  evervtliinLT  to  jjain  bv  vielding  to  the 
still  lampant  war  spirit,  fresh  from  Mohamnu-dan 
ci'usadis,  and  to  the  greed  which  had  lured  across 
the  seas  an  otherwise  unwilling  colonist.  Hence  the 
loly  calm  of  puritan  advent,  as  contrasted  with  the 
blood-stained  invasion  of  the  Iberian. 

Hradually  came  a  change,  from  the  very  nature  of 
these  primnry  conditions.     As  the  settler  acquired  a 

Essays  ANi>  MiscKi.LANY    6  (65) 


Ill 


66 


OUR  TREATMENT  OF  THE  NATIVE  RACES. 


footliold  and  strength,  the  restraints  of  fear  were  cast 
aside,  together  with  solenui  obhgations,  while  selfish 
assertion  assumed  the  reins.  As  the  glitter  of  gold 
began  to  fade,  the  eyes  of  the  fortune-seeker  opened 
to  the  existence  of  more  substantial  treasures  for  his 
gleaning,  in  fertile  soils,  existing  plantations,  unfolding 
silver  mines,  and  other  resources,  and  above  all  in 
submissive  natives  to  develop  them.  The  Indians  ac- 
quired a  value;  but  were  too  plentiful  to  obtain  duo 
ap|)reciation  and  consequent  innnunity  from  the  ex 
acting  oppression  of  irresponsible  masters.  Fortunate- 
ly for  them  both  church  and  government  learned  to 
better  estimate  their  worth,  and  toim[)ressit  upon  their 
graceless  sons  for  the  ])eri)etuation  of  their  own 
economic  and  sovereign  interests. 

The  S[)anish  government  was  never  intentionally 
unkind  to  the  Indians,  however  cruel  may  have  been 
the  uii])riMci[)led  horde  of  conquerors.  When  the 
Holy  See  had  passed  upon  the  quality  of  this  new 
humanity — when  the  pope  had  ])ronounced  that  the 
dusky  i'lhabitants  of  the  New  World  were  possessed 
of  souls,  the  (jueen  of  Castile  declared  tluiin  her  sub- 
jects, with  rights  of  life  and  protection,  always  pro- 
viiU"d  that  they  bowed  submission  to  Christ  and  their 
catholic  Majesties.  The  pope's  decision,  indeed,  could 
scarcely  have  been  otherwise  in  view  of  cliurcli  pre- 
rogatives, as  these  beings,  whether  human  or  not, 
were  destined  to  become  important  factors  in  New 
World  art'airs ;  but  it  was  a  judgment  less  hapj)y  for 
the  savages  presently  to  be  converted  at  the  point  of 
the  sword,  than  for  the  missionaries  who  were  to  gain 
nmch  wealth  and  glory  thereby.  The  Spanish  sov- 
ereigns were  true  to  their  original  declaration,  and 
did  all  in  their  power  to  prevent  the  infamies  con- 
stantly being  perpetrated  by  the  distant  colonists  in 
their  eagerness  for  slaves  and  results.  The  extermin- 
ation of  the  Indians  was  etjually  remote  from  the 
minds  of  the  colonists,  averse  asthevwere  to  work:  and 
their  lands  and  mines  were  valueless  without  laborers. 


i 


^cro  cast 
e  selfish 
•  of  gold 
r  opened 
s  for  his 
[infoldinir; 
ve  all  "m 
idians  ac- 
l)taiu  due 
II   the  ex 
ortuiiate- 
L>ained  to 
jpon  their 
Lheir  own 

Lcntioually 
have  beini 
^Vheu    the 
f  this  new 
d  that  the 
b  possessed 
n  lur  sub- 
ways pro- 
t  and  their 
Iced,  could 
lurch  pre- 
111  or   not, 
rs  in  New 
happy  for 
le  point  ot 
ere  to  gain 
Ipanish  sov- 
ation,  and 
amies  con- 
olonists  in 
cxterniin- 
froin   the 
i\v«irk;  an<l 
lut  laborer;^. 


COMrAUATIVE  CRUELTY. 


A  similar  governniental  mterfcrcnce  took  place  in 
tlie  nortli,  wlien  tlie  rivalry  of  unscru])ulous  fur-traders 
led  to  excesses  and  disregard  alike  for  the  morals  of 
the  natives  and  the  revi-nues  »)f  the  crown.  For  the 
])reservation  of  both,  charters  were  issued  to  respon- 
sible companies  in  French  and  Russian  America. 
These  soon  found  it  to  their  interest  to  court  the 
abori'dne  for  liis  fur  and  his  trade,  as  well  as  for  the 
safety  of  their  seattered  trapi>ers  and  peddlers.  In 
su[>piantiiig  tlic  Gaul  the  English  adopted  his  ad- 
mirable })olicy. 

Neither  of  these  nations  cared  for  the  native 
Americans,  tlieir  souls  or  bodies;  they  cared  far  less 
than  the  S[)aniar(ls,  wlio  were  so  widely  swayed  by 
the  church,  wherein  humanity  found  also  strong 
material  incentive. 

All  were  of  the  same  stock,  and  clauncd  alike  the 
higlicst  morality  and  the  ])urest  religion;  comparing 
one  with  another  of  tlie  gn^at  nations  of  the  foremost 
civilization,  there  is  little  to  choose  between  them 
in  ri'jjard  toetiuitvand  humanitv.  Enujlishmen  s|>eak 
of  tlie  Spaniards  and  Kussians  of  a  centuiy  or  two 
ago  as  cruel,  and  so  tluy  were;  but  it  is  not  possible 
in  the  compass  of  crime  for  men  to  inflict  U})on  their 
ffllow-men  greater  wrongs  than  those  put  by  England 
uixin  India  and  China, witidn  the  century. 

With  tlie  decline  of  pecuniary  interest  in  the 
IncUans  fell  also  the  consideration  of  the  invaders 
and  the  /.cal  of  the  authorities.  When  the  indei»end- 
ence  of  tlie  New  England  provinces  divided  Anulo- 
American  doimnaL'ion,  the  jiolicy  of  the  two  parts  in 
their  treatment  of  the  aborigines  became  as  distinct 
as  tliat  of  Sjiain  or  Russia. 

It  is  safe  to  say  that  nowhere  in  the  history  of 
colonization  were  native  nations  worse  treated  than  in 
the  United  States,  or  better  treated  than  in  British 
America.  Not  that  the  rev(dtcd  cohmists  were  in- 
herently k'ss  humane  than  their  northern  brethren, 
and  least  of  all  was  it  owing  to  any  influence  from 


68 


OUR  TREATMENT  OF  THE  NATIVE  RACES. 


tho  motlier  country.  The  cause  lay  in  the  fur  wealth 
of  tlie  northern  section,  wliicli  prompted  the  conijuiny 
representing  tlie  crown  to  comport  itself  with  circum- 
spection, wliili!  southward  there  was  less  of  this  in- 
centive to  self-control,  and  no  government  to  assign 
the  trade  to  responsible  parties  or  regulate  the  fiercer 
rivalry  which  ensued  among  a  host  of  competitors, 
heedless  of  tlie  future  or  tlie  consequences  to  others, 
and  bent  only  on  quick  profits. 

National  moralities,  outside  of  certain  bounds,  arc 
regulated  by  pecuniary  interests.  It  so  hap[)ened  that 
it  was  money  in  tlie  pockets  of  the  Canadians  for  the 
savages  to  live,  so  tlu'y  were  ke[)t  alive;  it  paid  the 
people  of  the  United  States  to  have  them  die,  so 
their  wild  men  were  killed.  The  colonists  of  New 
England  and  tlieir  descendants  were  essentially  work- 
ers, S(;ttlers,  agriculturalists,  and  waut(^d  the  land 
cleared  of  all  cuml>rances,  while  the  Montreal  Scotcli- 
inen  were  fur-dealers,  and  wished  to  maintain  half  of 
North  America  as  a  game  preserve,  with  the  Indians 
as  their  hunters.  Jleiiee  the  ■)fficers  of  the  great 
fur  companies  were  exei^edingly  kind  and  circumspect, 
phunng  in  contact  with  the  savages  only  tlielr  own 
servants  of  tried  integrity,  who  dealt  with  them  hon- 
estly, cliaritably,  respecting  their  rights  and  main- 
taining the  peace  of  nations. 

A  Hudson's  Bay  Company's  man  was  never  thanked 
by  his  superior  for  taking  advantage  of  an  Indian  in 
trade.  I*romises  were  faithfully  kei)t ;  and  if  a  white 
man  injured  an  Indian  he  was  punished  as  surely  if 
not  as  severely  as  the  Indian  who  injured  a  white 
man.  A  whole  village  was  not  murdered  for  a  theft 
by  one  of  its  members,  but  only  the  guilty  one  was 
made  to  suffer.  And  when  the  country  was  thrown 
o[)en  to  settlement,  the  natives  were  n<;t  left  to  tho 
mercy  of  the  vilest  element  in  the  commonwealth  to 
be  robbed  and  insulted,  but  were  allotted  the  lands 
about  their  ancient  homes,  and  mad(;  useful  and  re- 
spectable.      Along  the  ever-widening  border  of  the 


THE  FUR  COMPANIES. 


GO 


ir  wealth 

li  circuui- 
:  this  in- 
to assij^ri 
he  fiercer 
npctitors, 
bo  others, 

>un(ls,  are 

leued  tliat 
lis  for  the 
paid  the 
m  (lie,  so 
i   of  New 
ally  work- 
tlie    land 
al  Scoteh- 
in  halt'  of 
\c  Indians 
the  ijjreat 
•cunispeot, 
Itlieir  own 
hem  hou- 
nd niain- 

^r  thanked 
1  Indian  in 
lif  a  whitt^ 
surely  if 
a  white 
|[)r  a  theft 
(inc  was 
IS  thrown 
)ft  to  the 
jwcalth  to 
Ithc  lands 
]l  and  re- 


i 


lor 


of  tl 


10 


irnat  repuhlic,  on  the  other  liand,  were  free  trappers, 
dr>|H'ra(U»es,  tiie  scum  of  soeii'ty,  tosjvtiier  with  un- 
lictiiscd  settlers,  knowin.!4  n()  law  and  havin*^  no  i>ro- 
teclion  save  of  their  own  devising.  It  was  aloiu'  from 
roidact  with  such  an  element  that  the  savages  were 
foi'ced  to  form  their  opinion  of  white  men — ai»  ehnient 
that  kr[)i  them  in  a  state  of  constant  exasperation. 

More  than  was  the  case  with  tlie  Si>aniards,  or 
Portuguese,  or  liussians,  it  was  to  the  interest  of  tlie 
people  of  the  United  States  to  rid  tliemselves  of  their 
savanes.  'riuy  were  in  tlie  way;  of  no  use  to  any; 
and  preordained  at  best  soon  t»»  die;  then  wiiy  protect 
tliein  i  Moreover,  they  killed  white  men,  stole  cattle, 
and  held  [)oss<'ssion  of  land  which  could  he  put  to 
better  use.  That  white  men  did  worse  by  them,  or 
anion<^  themselves,  made  no  dill'erence.  That  the 
I'lnglish  lord  might  fence  out  hundreds  of  paupers 
from  his  tliousand-acri!  ]»ark  which  gave  him  each 
vear  a  few  tlavs'  sliootin<»',  or  a  Yankee  speculator 
Imld  rjO,000  acres  for  an  advance  in  price  made  no 
diU'erence.  Englishmen  and  Yankees  are  not  i)ainted 
sa\ages;  English  It >rds  are  not  American  lords;  civ- 
ilization and  savagisni  are  natural  foes;  the  weaker 
must  give  way,  and  the  less  said  about  justice  and 
liunianity  the  better.  So  with  their  accustomed  en- 
ergy the  ])eo[)le  of  the  Ignited  States  have  driven 
back  the  Indian  beyond  their  fast  exi)an<rmg  border, 
and  with  the  extermination  of  their  wild  beasts  ex- 
tt'rniinated  tluir  wild  men  when  these  ventured  to 
protest  or  resist.  Few  now  remain  within  tlii'ir 
borders  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific,  while  ^Ic>x- 
ico,  Jh'itish  America,  and  Russian  Ameiiea,  if  it  be 
any  satisfaction  to  them,  may  still  count  their  hordes 
of  unslahi  aboriginals. 

Perhaps  it  is  better  so.  If  with  our  Indians  we 
would  kill  off  our  Africans,  and  Asiatics,  and  low 
Euroi)eans,  wo  miglit  in  due  time  breed  a  race  of 
gods.  But  nmst  we  not  first  revise  our  ethics,  and 
throw  out  as  obsolete  the  idea  of  any  other  right  than 


70 


OUR  TREATMENT  OF  THE  NATIVE  RACES. 


iiiijrht,  of  any  otlior  priticiple  tliuii  tlio  inexorable  law 
of  progress^  Must  we  not  root  out  of  our  rcli|^ion 
every  sentiment  wiiieh  conflicts  witli  culture  ?  We 
see  plainly  enough  that  the  rights  of  nations  arc  le- 
speeted  hy  other  nations  in  pr(»portion  to  the  power 
of  a  people  to  defeiul  them.  Neitlur  religion  nor 
civilization  are  sufficiently  advanced  to  rinder  strict 
justice  to  savage  nations,  or  to  any  weaker  power. 
The  immigrants  from  England  were  no  exception  to 
this  rule.  Finding  the  savages  along  the  eastern  sea- 
board too  strong  t(^  be  at  once  driven  back,  thev  ac- 
knowledged  their  ownership  to  the  land,  but  did  not 
hesitatt!  to  cheat  them  out  of  it  as  <H)i)ortunity  offered. 
And  later,  as  the  white  men  became  stronger  and  the 
red  men  weaker,  while  it  has  been  partially  acknowl- 
edged that  the  latter  have  sonie  rights,  practically 
})ut  few  have  been  granted  them.  It  would  have 
been  njore  consistent  on  tln^  part  of  the  government 
to  have  ignored  them  entiiely  or  to  have  recognized 
them  fully.  Savagism  has  no  rights  if  it  has  not 
equal  rights  with  civilization. 

It  is  revolting  to  our  every  sense  of  manhood,  of 
honor,  and  of  justice,  tlie  narrative  of  the  century- 
march  of  Euro[)ean  civilization,  from  east  to  west 
across  the  mid-continent  of  North  America.  It  were 
enough,  one  would  think,  to  inflict  on  the  doomed 
race  the  current  curses  of  civilization,  rum  and  divers 
strange  diseases,  without  employing  steel  and  gun- 
powder. But  Jio  sooner  were  the  English  plantations 
on  the  eastern  seaboard  strong  enouuh  than  the  strucr- 
gle  began,  and  in  one  line  may  l)e  told  the  story  ring- 
ing with  its  thousand  imfamies  to  fit  ten  thousand 
occasions.  The  white  man,  in  the  belief  of  his  mental 
and  moral  superiority,  imposes  upon  the  red  man, 
who,  daring  to  defend  himself,  is  struck  to  earth. 
The  story  fits  the  great  battles  of  the  period  no  less 
than  the  local  raids  brought  on  by  an  attempt  of  a 
husband  and  father  to  protect  an  insulted  wife  or 
dauirliter.  or  the  theft  of  a  huntrrv  Indian  from  whose 


ATTITUDE  OF  THE  flOVFRNMENT. 


■* 
-'?« 


lands  jjjaino  has  bcnn  driven  to<^ive  pusturajjfu  to  oattk', 
tlio  wiinlc  iu'i^ldK>rli()()d  rallyin<;  in  revenge  and  slioot- 
iu'^  down  indiseriminately  every  native  man,  woman 
and  eliild  in  the  vicinity. 

Tlie  «n)vernment  lias  lu-en  likewise  at  fault.  Wi; 
Ixliold  warlike  jii\d  hlustiring  trdx'S  wrmjjf  one  conces- 
sion after  another,  in  reservations,  provisions,  annui- 
tii  s,  and  aid  toward  building  houses,  an< I  obtain  ready 
|);inl'in  after  every  fresh  uprising  or  outrage.  Peace- 
ful and  weak  tril)es,  on  the  other  hand,  have  Ix  u 
ni  nil  ttt'd,  or  i»ut  off  with  barren  tracts  and  scanty 
allowance,  filtered  though  the  fingers  of  dishonest 
a'4i  iits.  Thus  a  premium  was  ever  offered  to  disallec- 
tion.  Some  tribes,  like  the  Mission  Indians  of  Cali- 
fornia, liave  Ikm'm  surrendered  to  swindlers,  to  be  driven 
from  thfir  homes  occupied  for  generations,  and  left  to 
starve. 

Tenjporizing  was  in  a  measure  enforced  by  the  feud 
l)rcd  of  long  hostility  and  the  exposed  condition  of  a 
vast  frontier;  and  the  mode  of  dealing  had  to  con- 
form to  tiie  character  and  strength  of  the  tribe,  as 
practised  among  so-called  civilized  nations.  Yet  it 
can  never  excuse  the  glaring  hijustice  toward  well- 
disposed  and  deserving  peoples. 

For  tlie  last  half  century  the  aim  of  the  govern- 
ment in  its  Indian  policy  has  been  for  the  most  j»art 
humane  and  lionorable,  equal  in  its  benevolent  inten- 
tions to  S[>ain'.s,  and  superior  to  that  of  England; 
nevei'theless,  its  mistakes  and  inconsistencies  have 
been  lunnberless.  Starting  out  upon  a  false  premise, 
striving  at  once  to  be  powerful  and  pure,  its  pathway 
has  l)ri.^iled  with  difficulties.  It  made  lofty  distinctions 
which  were  withoutadifferencc,acknowledi;inij:  in  words 
from  the  first  the  lords  aboriginal  in  possession  as  the 
rightful  owners  of  the  soil,  from  whom  to  steal  with- 
out pretext  of  right  was  sinful,  but  who  might  never- 
tludess  be  righteously  robbed  in  a  thousand  ways. 
Xor  was  it  until  the  young  republic  had  .secured  for 
it.self  acreage  broad  enough,  as  it  supposed,  for  all 


71 


OUR  TriKATMENT  OF  THK  NATIVE  HACKS. 


iiiiil 
f'l! 


i:i 


pVtsont  and  future  needs,  and  was  <ni  tlio  l»i;4lirt)ad 
to  Wealth  and  fame,  that  tlie  east  Ixi^an  [»rearhin<^  to 
the  west  sueli  honesty  and  liinnanitv  on  hehalf  of  tlio 
natives  as  it  liad  not  liitherto  felt  ahle  to  indulL,^!^  in 
on  its  own  account.  What  new  n-velatioii  has  conu; 
to  the  connnonwealth,  that  the  settk'rs  west  of  tiie 
Arississijtpi  jiave  not  the  sanu;  i'i;j;ht  to  seize  tlu!  lands 
and  kill  the  iidiahitants  as  liad  the  settlers  east  of 
that  line; '(  Had  a  claust;  been  inserted  in  the  consti- 
tution niakinj^  the  rohhery  and  murder  of  Indians 
lawful,  the  course  of  all  would  liave  Incn  clear;  hut 
to  rob  and  murder,  or  permit  a  straight  centui'v  of 
such  license,  and  that  on  a  mighty  ma^jjnificent  scale, 
and  now  hej^in  to  rail  at  similar  slighter  deeds  en- 
forced by  necessity,  seems  absuid. 

IMie  condition  of  the  philanthropists  of  the  east,  in 
no  fear  f<»r  their  scalj)s,  an<l  in  the  full  enjoyment  of 
lands  stolen  from  the  sava<'i's  bv  tlu'ir  forefathers, 
diil'crs  widely  from  that  of  the  settlers  on  the  border 
with  dwiHings  aHame  anil  wives  and  children 
slaughtei'ed. 

Among  the  more  common  and  continued  mistakes 
of  the  government  in  dealing  with  the  Indians  has 
been  the  employment  as  agents  of  men  who  would 
buy  their  appointment  from  some  political  hack,  de- 
pending on  p(  (ulation  or  othei'  rascality  for  a  return. 
(.)f  all  the  millions  of  nKmcy  appropriated  by  congress 
for  the  benefit  of  the  Indians,  it  is  safe  to  say  that 
oidy  a  sn)all  proportion  has  ever  reached  thetn.  Tlu!n 
there  has  hvvn  much  bad  faith  on  the  part  of  govern- 
ment, broken  promises,  and  unfulfilled  treaties.  A 
savage  cannot  understand  how  a  nation  can  deceive 
without  expecting  to  fight.  Indian  outbreaks  have 
alwavs  been  the  result  of  real  or  fancied  wromjfs, 
which  nine  times  in  ten  the  government  might  have 
n^medied,  and  thus  avoided  bloodshed,  had  it  acted 
through  honest,  competent  agents,  with  promptness, 
fairness,  and  firmness. 

An  hisurmouutable  obstacle  confining  the  action  of 


1{A(  K    l»IFI"i:UKN(iX 


7» 


tlic  autlioritic's  Ii(\s  in  riiri>  IboliiiLj,  wliirli  is  far  iiiorr  in- 
ttiiHi'  amoiiM'  the  Teutons  tliuii  in  the  Jjatin  citnK'nt. 
Tin'  Frciiclniian  and  Spaniard  liold  thcnisclvcs  altove 
tlic  Idwlv  Indian,  imt  tiu-y  do  not  spurn  liini.  Intcr- 
niariiaj^c  was  unliesitatinj^ly  atloptcd  by  tlicir  younj^ 
nil  11,  and  t'avorod  by  tlio  rii'irch  an<l  tliu  j^ovcrninent, 
as  aiiitiii'4  t'lU'-tiadcrs,  on  tlio  ground  of  morality  and 
with  a  \  itw  to  t'orni  a  claim  upon  native  h)yalty.  Tiie 
lialt-hrced  yrew  to  receive  a  sliarc  in  the  affection  so 
tVtf  Iv  hcstowed  by  Spanish  pari'uts.  Tlius  favored, 
the  iiiisti/.o  expanded  in  Latin  America  into  a  powcr- 
{'mI  race.  Suhjccted  lik«'  tlic  creoh'  to  narrow-minded 
oppi'cssion  and  disrej^ard,  lie  turned  for  syni]>athy  to 
till'  nuitrnial  side,  to  cherish  ancient  ti'adition,  and  to 
nvivr  its  ^lories  in  the  achievement  of  independenro. 

^Vitll  him  th(>  aborigines  have  been  lifted  to  full 
C(|uality  before  the  law,  althou_<j;h  the  spri,i;litlier  mes- 
tizo seeks  to  maintain  the  domination  over  the  masses 
iiilierited  from  the  Si>aniard,  politically  as  well  as 
hixiaily.  ]Iis  rise  is  most  desirable,  for  his  ])atient 
and  conservative  traits  form  a  lu'cdful  clici  k  on  the 
cliaii'4('al)le  disposition  of  the  otlu'rs.  His  ca]>acity 
for  elevation  is  den-onstrati'd  not  alone  in  the  fVat«rnal 
iee<iMiiiti(in  of  his  merits  aiul  character  in  the  various 
oliieial  positions  wliich  lu^  shari'S  with  his  half-breed 
hictlier,  but  in  the  nund)ej'  of  j>rominent  men  con- 
tiihiited  by  him  to  the  circles  of  arts,  scienc(\  and  lit- 
erature, as  in  the  case  of  Juarez,  the  yreat  lawL;iv(  r 
ami  hleiator,  whom  unanimous  gratitude  has  raised 
tn  a  national  hero. 

So  in  the  north  also  we  find  l)right  promises,  as  ex- 
liihited  by  the  Cherokees,  by  instances  of  intellectual 
and  material  advancement  at  different  reseivations, 
and  by  marked  reformation  effected  by  missionary 
effort  on  the  remote  Alaskan  l)order  of  British  Co- 
Imiibia.  in  creating  a  model  community  from  among 
I'lide  fisher  tribes.  There  is  not  here  the  same  pros- 
pect for  advancement.  howev(>r,  as  in  Spanisfi  America, 
for  the  contemptuous  race  antii»athy  and  disdainful 


!»,'■;, 


74 


Om  THEATMKNT  OF  THE  NATIVE  RACES. 


Ii-:;l 


exclusivcness,  on  the  part  of  tlio  An<^lo-Saxona,  liavc 
2)lii('(«l  a  ;jjulf  impassable  Ix'twoi'ii  tlieni  and  tlic  Indians 
and  liaH'-bivcds,  which  loaves  them  strangers  and  out- 
casts on  their  ancestral  soil. 

There  can  l»o  no  t^n-at  crood,  now  that  the  Indians 
are  nearly  all  dead,  in  devisimj  means  for  preserving 
tlu'ir  lives.  At  the  same  time  the  mind  will  some- 
times rcivert  to  a  possible  condition  t)f  things,  wherein 
there  were  no  Indian  reservations  to  serve  as  pi'isons 
for  free  men,  and  hot-beds  of  political  itrKpiity;  wlnnin 
the  survivors  of  a  nation  had  I'ach  bi-en  securi'd  in  the 
possession  of  land  sufHcient  for  his  easy  niaintinancc 
on  the  spot  wlu^re  had  lived  his  ancestors,  officers  be- 
ing appointed  for  tln'ir  further  protection  under  the 
severest  ju-naltics  for  misconduct ;  wherein  there  were 
strict  regulations  res[tecting  settlers  on  the  Ixtrder, 
their  occu[»ati«)n  of  lands,  and  intercourse  with  the 
natives;  wherein,  if  voting  in  this  republic  nmst  be 
promiscuous,  Africans  and  low  ]Our<»[)eans  being  in- 
vited to  become  our  peers,  tlu^  privilege  was  not  de- 
nied the  Indians,  whose  soil  we  have  seized  and  whose 
nationalities  %ve  have  obliterated. 


I  \ 


CHAPTER  V. 


mSTOKV  \\KlTI\(r. 

Ifi-  aliiii!'  ri-.hU  liistory  urij.'lit,  mIih,  oltservinjj  Imw  jioworfully  oirc.in- 
>taini-i  iiilliuiicf  till'  1  ilmj;s  ami  (i)i(iii.iiis  i.f  man,  how  otli'fi  vicus  jmss  into 
\  irtuc  -i.iinl  ]i;u'.iili)Xi'siiiti>a\iiiiii.-<,  li  .iiiih  tii  ilistiii^.'iii-^li  \\  liat  i^iaccidi'iital  ami 
tiMii>iti'i'v  ill  liuiiian  nature  from  \vliat  is  cssfiiiial  ami  imiiiiital<li'. 

— Miiciinldy. 


As  th 


ulil  makos  liistorv,  iiu'ii  are  found  to  re- 


I'lid  it;  liist  on  tin-  tal)ltt  of  inciUDry,  to  Ik-  in  lilco 
iii;iinirr  n 'inscribed  Ity  succcssivo  gi'iK-rations,  illunii- 
ii,il(  (1  with  tlic  L^low  of  family  stride,  of  ti'ihal  syui|)a- 
I'.nliy,  tit'  patriotic  devotion.  In  tlio  course  of  tliis 
tr.iiismisslon  occur  further  modifications  under  in- 
tlui  iiccs  multifarious,  colored  by  tlu'  vagaries  of  fancy, 
iln-rstition,  or  i-motion,  ^)tliers  warjjcd  by  tlefectivo 


SI 


•ted    1 


ivtciidiin  or  ol)scuro  Judgment :  others  pervei 
please  the  varyinuj  audiences,  of  elders  or  y«)Uth,  of 
ti  lends  or  sti'an''ers,  or  to  add  brilliancy  to  the  rhet- 
tuie  of  the  narrator. 

T!ie  distortion  hero  is  no  worst;  than  ni  the  Jiost  of 
wrilteii  chronicles,  additionallv  iniiuenced  bv  fanati- 
ri>m  and  |)n'judicc,  iL!jnora'ic(\  and  lack  of  relleetion. 
ill  the  latter,  however,  the  (tutlines  are  shaiply  cut 
ill  prose  and  witli  unalterable  ri^'idity  ;  in  the  foiiiu  r 
they  fade  and  interininLi^lc  with  the  metric  current 
\\liieh  bor(>  the  tales  of  illiterate  ancestors.  A  j'oetic 
iiiiauination  lifts  incidents  into  the  sphere  of  miracu- 
lous (»r  supernatural  ]>henonu'na,  and  the  fiDjiU'c  rises 
iVom  the  sage  patriarch  or  valiant  chieftain  to  a  hero 
oi' a  divinity,  euphemistically  transformed.  Distance 
wraps  around  all  its  nivstifving  veil ;  a^re  invests  false- 
IkmhI  with  sanctity. 

•V  step  l)ack  and  hl.^tory  fadc>s.     As  th(>  vila  of 


(  "O 


76 


HIS'lOllY   WRITINT,. 


tiino  lonufthoiis  and  tlie  jKist  ivcodos,  a  mist  doses  in 
beliiiKJ  us  and  oven  recorded  tacts  <j;ro\v  dim.  Poets 
themselves,  as  milestones  in  tlie  Idiiiiwav  of  history— 

'  '•mi.' 

Chaucer,  as  disjtiaying  ImioHsIi  chaiactcr  at  the  close 
of  the  fifteenth  centuiy  ;  Shidicsjd'arc,  as  opening  a 
new  eia  in  the;  develojunent  of  thought;  and  ShelK-y, 
as  heialding  the  a[i[)r()ach  of  modern  skepticism-  arc 
doomed  in  time  to  become  obsolete,  and  crund)le. 
With  the  fruits  of  their  lives  in  never-dying  fi'jiui-jmco 
still  bi'fore  us,  some  affect  to  believe  the  man  Ih-nier 
a  myth  ;  some  regard  Sh.akt'sjxare  as  a  mask.  ilut 
where  is  the  diU'erence,  if,  contrary  to  our  teachings, 
the  blind  minstrel  or  the  ilivin(>  di'amatist  never  had 
authentic  reality.''  Their  works,  tlu;  testimony  of 
earnest  lives  and  matchless  intellects,  are  with  us,  and 
for  these  their  authors,  wliosoever  they  are,  shall  be 
to  us  as  Homer  and  Shakespeare. 


rom  liallowec 


1  ant 


Kiintv  emerucs  mv 


:thol 


o*rv  to  en- 


fold the  cradle  of  most  nations,  and  to  be  in  time  set 
forth  in  ri'cords  like  tin;  Jewish  sci'i[)tures,  the  ]lin<loo 
Veda,   the  Popol  Vuh  of  the  Quiches,  r(!garded   by 


tlieir  several  peoples  as  sac  re* 


d,  ami 


su[>|)ltnnented   by 


heroic  ballads,  whicli  often  contain  the  beginnings  of 
national  history.  Even  science  had  its  occult  period, 
as  in  the  astrology  of  astronomy  and  tlu^  alchemy  of 
clunnistry.  AH  the  uid<nown  was  the  doings  of  the 
id   while   imagination   thus   tvraimi/ed   oNcr 


U'ocis : 


ai 


rt'asoii,  a 


Tl 


II  hist()rical  records  wei'e  deeme<l  d 

th   it> 


ivme 


len   arose  skepticism  witli   its  (piestionmgs,  aiu 


(1 


the  human  began  t()  mix  with  the  spiritual.  The 
history  of  one  age  became  tlu;  romanci!  of  the  next. 
Until  a  comparatively  late  period,  patristic  writings 
were  regarded  by  Christians  as  but  little  h'ss  worthy 
of  belief  than  the  holy  scri[)tures.  Now,  history,  in 
common  with  the  vital  forces  of  the  ag(>,  has  become 
bumani/ed,  materialized.  No  longer  are  mainsjtrings 
of  thought  and  action  sought  amidst  the  unknowable, 
(^hivaliy,  kingcraft,  and  military  Christianity  have 
had  their  dav,  and   mankind  is  now  less  ruled  bv  the 


SUriTiSTIiION   AND  UKALITY. 


77 


['loses  in 
Poets 
istory — 
,lic  close 
)cirm<^  a 
Shelley, 
sin-    are 
cruniMe. 
Va'j,i'aiu*o 
1  11  oilier 
4.      But 
•acliiii!L''s, 
cvir  had 
iiioiiy    of 
h  us,  and 
shall   bo 

)o;v  to  eii- 
i  time  set 
le  Hinth)o 


a 


rded  hy 
nted  hy 
1  linos  of 
t  ptriod, 
leinv  ol" 
sot"  the 
zed    oVir 

vine. 
ii-j,s,  and 
al.     The 
the  lu'xt. 
writinj^s 
^s  worthy 
istory,  in 
s  heeonu' 
ius|»riii;j;s 


>no\va 


hU 


iitv 
d'hv 


liave 


erclesiastioal  spirit  or  hy  the  sentiment  of  loyalty. 
Suiritual  jxiwer  and  temporal  })o\ver  are  divorced; 
,tiid  iiistt-ad  of  crusading  kiiiglits,  in((uisitious,  and  an 
iiitalliWle  papacy,  we  have  constitutional  government 
and  a  fnc  press.  Thouglit  is  emanci[)ated,  and  mind 
hanii'ssi's  till'  forces  of  nature. 

\\  •  ait'  liccniniiig  iiior(!  and  more  satisfied  to  bo 
'.niidt  il  I'V  t!ic  hglit  of  our  reason,  which,  liowsomer 
dim  and  tlieiveiiiig,  distinguishes  us  from  brute  beasts, 
and  >er\es  ti>  reveal  the  will-o'-the-wisps  which  have 
si>  leiij-  misled  us,  dispelling  the  veneration  which 
ujice  attended  all  that  was  printed,  almost  all  that  was 
written,  and  much  of  what  was  said,  jtarticularly  if 
spuken  fi'niii  tli(^  pulpit  or  forinn.  'i'hero  was  some- 
tiling  iii\steiious  and  almost  sacred  in  books,  and  in 
the  wmds  tif  those  who  had  long  and  dili<j,entlv 
seai(  lied  tliem.  The  unthinking  millions  were  ever 
i'ead\  t'  .i.dit  philosopher  and  sage,  priest  and  ])ro- 
t'essnr,  V  it')  knowledgt^  and  powi'rs  illimitable.  'I'ho 
eailie>t  hook  of  the  nation  was  above  all  held  sacred, 
as  soiiietliing  emanating  fi'oni  divinity,  by  virtue  of  its 
uinarildy  and  umiatural  incidents.  Ihit  the  older 
the  wnild  grows,  the  clearer  becomes  its  disci'imina- 
ti'Mi  In  hist'ti'ic  Judgment.  In  this  it  is  aided  also  by 
the  uiiehscured  records  of  many  a  modern  nation  from 
Its  pelit  ieal  inception. 

Ill  out'  presi'iit  n  searches  we  have  recourse  to  lenses 
as  well  as  new  lights.  The  cumulative  knowledge  of 
pn-*t  gcnei'afions  is  becoming  moi'e  aeeessible  and  con- 
eeni rated,  and  seieiiee  '>'ives  dailv  fresh  tiinoiics  to 
ni.;a'iieand  inorganic  substance.  The  noi'mal  unfold- 
ing of  natui'e  is  demonstrated,  togetlu-r  with  depeiid- 
Mi'4  events;  tlm  hieroglyphics  of  the  past  assunii' an 
'  \ei  liii;4litening  outline,  and  tlu>  elements  of  truth 
distill  from  the  ambiguous  and  absurd  in  the  national 
1  looks.  As  history  emergens  from  this  .shadowy  Ixirder- 
l:md.  the  mythologv  and  dim  beginning  of  national 
refolds  proceeding  from  the  sacred  to  the  profane,  it 


tl 


le 


7S 


HTSTOKY  wmrryo. 


Iiii|r 


■'  ■!: 


'\-m 


loses  somcwliat  of  its  diccptioii  unci  unccrtahity,  until 
trutli  trinni[)liant  rises  superior  to  all  tradition. 

Similarly  graded  was  the  de\rl(i})iiient  from  original 
reflective  and  ])liilos<»{)liie  history.  In  regard  to  the 
latter,  it  is  better  that  history  should  be  pure,  unadul- 
terated by  any  ])hilosophy,  than  to  be  burdened  by  it. 
It  is  Will  for  the  historian  ever  to  liave  in  mind  causes 
and  principles;  otluTwise,  indeed,  he  would  1)C  only  a 
chioiui'ler  or  ainialist.  ]^ut  ho  need  not  parade  his 
doctrines  unduly.  No  two  writers  or  readers,  if  they 
think  at  all,  will  agree  exactlv  touching  the  t)ri^in  of 
human  all'airs  and  the  nature*  of  human  progress;  it 
is  not  neces.sary  that  tlu-y  should.  The  greater  the 
pri'tensi(»n  to  insight  into  these  enigmas,  the  greater 
the  confusion.  Let  us  have  our  tfu  ts,  so  far  as  <()n- 
sisti  nt  with  riiasonable  and  critical  nai ration.  })ure  and 
sinqtle,  jirescnted  clearly,  in  natural  order  and  logi(  al 
se(|Uence;  and  c'acli  of  us,  if  so  disposed,  can  weave 
from  them  any  additional  webof  philosojthy.  Strained 
elforis  ill  this  direction  are  as  uii]>ro(itab]e  and  unpleas- 


ant as  jireconceived  recoi^mtioii  or  special  ]>rovidenco 
or  miraculous  inti'r[)osition.  It  is  enough  to  discern 
wise  provisions  and  fundauu-ntal  rules,  or  proclaim  a 
seemingly  overruling  intelligence  in  all  that  relates  to 
man  and  nature,  without  appeiuHng  on  the  one  side 
evident  or  M-mot(' e\[)lana<ions,  or  attempting  on  the 
other  to  trac(^  i\\v,  tingi'r  of  CJod  in  the  all'airs  of  men 
to  such  an  extent  as  to  make  the  Ahnighfy  the  druc'ge 
and  scavenger  of  the  universe,  subjict  to  the  beck  and 
call  of  every  atom  in  his  Breotii-  handiwork. 

In  mixing  ioofreelyphilosopli\  with  history,  homely 
facts  are  liable  to  bccomo  distortetl  or  subveiiid.  In 
truth,  philosophizing  )>roduces  too  oftiMi  only  a  phan- 


t<»ni  to  wiiicli  facts  will  not  clii 


1!I. 


Whih 


pret 


endnuj 


to  gr(>at  thii\gs,  to  primary  and  universal    lnv(  sti 


i>: 


tioii,  to  tl 


\e  svi 


Ith 


esis  ami  analvsis  ol  a 


f 


knowledo'c 


the  explanation  of  fundamenlal  causes  and  the  de- 
t«'rminin<r  of  infinite  efVeets,  it  soars  awav  from  real 
knowled'_ro  to  deal  with  its  shad(>\v.  With  !Moutaii'ne, 


IIKFOIIMATION   IN  NMIIIATIOX. 


7'.» 


If  oiu;    SK.U' 


l)rt,-tt'n(lin»j; 


]^r.  Sainto-Bcuvo  loved  "only  tlio  simple  ingenuous 
histoiiiuis  who  recounted  farts  without  ehoiec  or 
sil-'ction  in  g<iod  faith;"  i)ut  that  is  another  e^ctrenie 
to  which  few  will  subscribe. 

But  a  little  while  ai^o  it  was  assumed  that  a  nation 
wliich  li;i(l  !i'»t  waded  through  centuries  of  blood  had 
ii<i  liisi'iiv.  To  our  more  refine<l  sensibilitii-s,  pietufes 
uf  h;ittli'-tield  agonies,  catalogues  of  death  wounds, 
;iii.!  i>,ii  haidiis  ati'<wities  are  less  congenial— I  will  not 
savlfss  pr(»litabK^ — than  to  the  ruder  tastes  of  1  lomer's 
]isiiii«  IS  or  to  the  lover  of  King  Arthur  romances. 
Xanativrs  of  sieges  and  battles,  of  the  discijdinc  an<l 
111  .\iuirnt  of  armies,  and  of  international  diplonuncies  ; 
l>i.iMi;ij)iii(>  of  ministers  and  generals,  and  tlie  idiosyn- 
ciacics  of  great  men;  [)ietures  of  court  intrigues, 
.laiiit\-  morsels  of  court  scandals,  recitations  of  the 
sixiii^s  of  imiteeilo  monarchs,  ant'cdotes  of  j)rinces, 
tlie  o|iinions  of  counsellors,  or  i\iv.  tortuous  ways  of 
|ii'iiti(  a!  factions — these  arc  not  all  of  history. 

WHiat  (\irlyle  wanted  to  see  was  "init  rcMbl>ook 
h  >ts.  and  court  calenrhus.  ar<(  parlianuMitai-y  registers, 
hiii  the  lite  of  man  ill  I'^ngland  .  wi.at  men  did,  thought, 
sutl' red,  (Mijoyed;  the  form,  espt'cially  the  s]iirit,  of 
t!i 'ir  tm-estrial  existence,  its  outward  environment, 
it-;  inward  ]>rinciple  ;  how  and  what  it  was;  wiieiu'e 
it  |iro."e(>(K'd,  wliither  it  was  tending." 

l>eginn!ng  with  Moses  or  Ifomer  and  tracing  the 
ivcor.U  of  tlie  race  to  tlie  present  time,  if  we  take 
out  the  accounts  of  human  butchei'ies,  of  lying  and 
over  reaching  of  statesmen  and  rulers,  and  of  the 
;-;.iurces  of  lamentation,  there  is  little  left.  Crushing 
is  the  curse  of  ignorance  and  Injustice  I  llow  blotted 
an'  the  |)ag(>s  of  historv  with  the  cruelties  of  tvrants, 
the  eoiruptions  of  couits,  the  wanton  wickedness  of 
lawmakers  and  governors  I  What  wond(>r  tliat  tlu; 
]»'ior  steal,  and  bloated  si-nsualists  ravidi  I  (Jibbon 
•  oiisiders  history  indt-i'd  little  more  than  the  registi-r 
ef  the  crimes,  follies,  and  misfortunes  of  mankind. 


80  IIISTOUY  WniTIXr,. 

History's  talc  as  givfii  is  l>y  fnr  too  woeful.  It  tells 
not  tli(>  wliolo  truth.  It  holds  uj)  to  us  chicliy  the 
ilolorous  side  of  iiuuianity,  witli  the  wounds,  conHicts, 
and  stains  of  ci-iiiic, — tht;  hateful,  hloody  side. 

Now,  to  eveiy  liumaii  soul,  and  to  evi'ry  a;jji>;re<jja- 
tion  of  soids,  there  is  a  bri^lit  side,  tionendly  tlie  un- 
written side  of  history.  JV'tween  the  hlaek  jferiods 
of  passion  Jut!  long  eras  of  peace  and  prosju-rity, 
as  fully  entitled  to  their  place  in  history  as  the 
other. 

A  still  greater  omission  lies  in  t'o  failure  to  <hdy 
observe  the  mighty  cuiient  of  hisi,  ;y  in  the  i)eople, 
to  (hiatc  only  or  chiefly  U[>on  ed(Hes,  stn-aks,  and 
HotsMin.  in  slirrinjjj  incidents  and  striking  figures. 
Xo  intelligent  reader  of  the  pi'esmt  day  will  for  a 
inonient  (jUtstion  tJie  n-lative  value  of  a  kiutwledge 
of  the  origin  anil  stiucture  of  social  institutions  as 
eon>pared  with  a  knowledgeof  kings,  dynasties,  gent-al- 
ogies,  and  political  intrigues.  Formerly  the  j'cojile 
seemed  to  he  kej)t  alive  in  order  that  the  government 
nnght  h\(',  hut  as  the  pe»»ple  hecome  sti'ong  the  gov- 
'.■j'nnieiit  recedes  to  a  subordinate,'  jiosition. 

We  are  t(>ld  that  history  is  but  the  essence  of  in- 
numerable biograj)hies.  K(  s(»lving  then  this  essence, 
wo,  tind  c],itrhn\vd  how  this  prince  was  t'levated  and 
dejx>s'd.  how  that  sycophant   intrigued;  we  ai'c  noti- 


fied 


it'/Ni 


»w 


certain    nobU  s    <|uaireled,   In 


ow 


ministers  were  n.ade  and  unmade — as  if  the  universe 
revolved  round   these    pool'  worms,  and   tho  fati'   of 


lumanity  Jnmg  upon  tln'ir  lij)s.      Descenc 


li 


D. 


dimi  t 


o  nimor 


greatness,  we  tind  recorded  the  nx-chanical   inge;iuity 
of  an  inventor,  the  skill  oi'  magnanimity  of  a   [)orui- 


cian  or  a  tradesman  ;  but  of  the  men,  moral  or 


hes 


tial, 


we  learn   n 


ttli 


Success  we  can   but  worship,  weal 


ci'iatures  that  we  are,  and  success  demands  a    |ila( 


wh 


lellu'r  it  comes  from  proj)agandism  or  piekle-making. 


it  will  have  a  niche  in  the  ]»antheon,  ]-)Ut  this  is  not 
enough  ;  th<^  new  immortal  nuist  be  bleached  or  black- 
ened    to     harmonize     with    the    surroundings  ;    he 


RULEUS  AXD   IT.OPLE. 


81 


It -1  Hit  Kill*;, 


mu.-^t  1)0  elevated  and   rendered  eonspieuous,  as  angel 
(,r  utvil,ul)()ve  the  crowd  whence  lie  issued. 

h\  lii-tnry  the   people   have   been   rej)resented    far 

t>>()  much  \)y  their  chiefs.     Tlio  movers  of  the  woild 

iuv    I'.iiuikind,   not    the   l<>aders.     Statesmen  are    un- 

ddulitedly  the  authors  of  niany  evils  and  sonic  few 

hciietits  to  man.     Yet  we  exaj^gerat*;  wlieu  fi'om  the 

prow    of  tlie    ship    of  state   we  sei;  the   threatening 

lir.ak'i-,  and  fancy  that,  hut  for  the  helming  of  great 

iiit'ii.  we  slinuM  1)(!  dashed  to  pieces.      From  the  cause 

of   had  leadership    alone    is    seldom,  at  this   day,  a 

jKitiou  wrecked.     The  people  are  the  nation;  and  to 

tl.i  if  ignorance  or  weakness,  poverty  or  coMaidice,  we 

must,  Ixiik  for  the  origin  of  all  the  greater  evils  that 

hdhll  them. 

T!ie  time  was  when  Pharaoh.s  and  Alexanders,  or 
]:)tt(  il\  a  XiiTioleon,  seemed  to  swav  the  destinies  of 
thtir  own  and  adjacent  nations,  i);irtlv  hv  inherited 
CMiitio]  over  a  sui)jected  peo))le,  partly  through  ascen- 
(iciK  V  'j,.rmed  1)V  prowess  and  intellect.  The  acts  <jf 
such  a  wielder  of  power  are  undoubtedly  all  inipor- 
t:iiit.  and  his  l>iography  becomes  largely  the  liistory 
nf  till'  nation.  Xeverthele.^s,  M'e  must  look  deeper, 
and  not  he  blinded  by  superficial  glitter.  We  must 
Indk  for  bases  and  causes,  not  alone  for  appearances 
and  clVects. 

Tlio  great  men  of  history,  or  those  who  |>lay  prom- 
imiit  jtarts  on  the  world's  stage,  are  in  the  main  the' 
result  of  accident  or  a  combination  of  ciicumstances, 
bein--  made  by  fortune  rather  than  making  it.  The 
evoiufioii  of  a  king  varies  little  in  form  or  principle 
linm  the'  unfolding  of  anv  other  object  in  nature  oi"  in 
man,  with  the  ditlerencti  that  fitness  as  the  i  Iriiieiit 
<it'  sur\isal  seems  to  have  little  to  do  with  it.  ^'ligi- 
II  il!\ .  as  subordinate  leaders,  they  possessed  the  merit 
of  piiiwt.-s,  or  as  representatives  in  whom  centered 
ill''  inti  rt  >ts  of  castes  and  guilds  and  tribes,  ludd  in 
i'|uihoriuiii  l>y  dij)lomatic  jiaiousy  antl  distrust;  but 
olhrtwis.,'  there  was  usually  no  merit  whatever. 

1  ^SA^!,  ASi>  .^ll^^^:I. I.A.N  ■•    ti 


82 


IIISTOIIY  WRITING. 


In  followiniv  the  career  of  an  Alexander,  tlio  causes 
()f  success  must  l)c  souj^lit  not  in  liis  leijjislative  acts 
and  military  feats,  in  liis  public  conduct  or  private 
life,  but  in  the  character  and  habits  of  the  ptjoples 
which  achieved  his  conquests  or  submitted  to  his  sway. 
W(!  must  <j[o  back  and  trace;  the  influence  of  the  sur- 
rouiidini^  circumstances,  and  watch  the  ri})enin_L5  in- 
cidents which  enable  one  man  to  step  to  the  front, 
and  seemingly  u,uide  the  current  of  national  jjcrform- 
ance  into  a  new  chamiel.  It  re(iuired  the  lonL''  fer- 
mentations of  many  ingredients  to  start  tlie  Aryans 
on  the  great  westward  march  which  still  pursues  its 
civilizing  course.  In  tracing  it,  we  direct  our  glance 
no  longer  at  the  leaders,  but  at  tiie  moving  mass,  and 
at  the  numerous  evidences  of  its  halt,  now  in  tin'  fertile 
valley  of  the  Eu})hr.')tes,  now  on  the  stei'ile  shores  of 
Potenicia,  in  the  semi-tropic  climate  of  Greece,  and  in 
the  diversified  valleys  of  America. 

Alexander's  father  introduced  a  primary  element 
of  success  in  the  military  system,  long  matured  in  the 
classic  peninsula,  and  which  inspired  the  JNIaeedonians 
with  irresistible  confidence  as  well  as  military  ardor. 
It  was  the  spirit  of  Epaminoudas,  to  a  certain  extent, 
whicli  guided  them  to  victory.  Then  we  nmst  take 
into  consideration  the  influence  of  (h'eek  thought  in 
other  directions  n[)()n  the  leading  class(>s,  and  of  Aris- 
totle's teachings  upon  the  young  general,  until  finally 
we  approximate  the  cause  which  started  the  invasion, 
roused  the  flame  of  discord  among  the  nations 
throughout  south-western  Asia,  and  shaped  the  policy 
which  assured  the  coiujuest.  TIk;  comparative  insig- 
nificance of  the  head  is  illustrated  by  the  parting 
asunder  of  the  fabric  at  his  death  for  the  benefit  of 
liis  generals,  upheld  by  the  favor  and  desire  of  the 
subordinate  oflicers  and  soldiers. 

In  Na[)oleon  we  behold  the  personitlcation  of  a  new 
military  metlxKl,  which  found  success  among  old-fash- 
ionetl  and  rutty  systems,  and  of  the  consequent  inspir- 
ation which  drove  the  nation  onward  to  iilorious  deeds. 


MODERN  ERA. 


83 


In  tlie  reaction,  it  was  national  sympathy  and  love  of 
in<lc[)('n(l('n('0,  ratlier  tliaii  the  direction  of  kinujs,  which 
hmkc  the  clialiis,  while  national  inti'j^'iity  ki4)t  the 
alHed  powers  from  oxiictinijj  terms  too  severe. 

The  material  and  intellectual  a<lvancement  of  nations 
camiot  he  wholly  arrested  by  the  vajj^ariea  of  rulcr.s, 
wlio,  autocratic  as  they  may  he,  are  hound  and  guided 
l)V  citmmoii  interests  with  tlieir  peoj)lo,  altiioUL,ii 
prompted  hy  andiition  and  vanity  to  se<'ure  more  than 
a  due  sliare  for  themselves.  The  statecraft  widch  so 
Inii'j-  deluded  tho  ma.sses  for  the  l)en(^fit  of  a  self-assert- 
intr  few  avails  no  longer.  Democracy  has  had  itsohbs 
and  tides,  hut  siiici>  tho  middle  ages  its  progress  has 
lirrii  more  steady.  "^Fho  practical  discuveries  and  in- 
vhich  form  the  essentials  of  civilization  arc 


VllltlOl 


the  jivers  of  its  own   making,  whereby  it  is  uplifted. 

Note'  also  tho  etfect  of  tlic  three  iri'cat  inventions 
npfHi  this  modern  era,  the  com])ass,  pi-inting  ])ress, 
and  gun|i()W(ler;  tho  first  opening  the  hitherto  locked 
oceans  and  western  continents  to  enterprise  and  emi- 
gration, offering  an  asylum  for  the  oppressed  and  a 
iinrsory  for  ft\  loni ;  tho  second  opening  the  portals  of 
knowledge  to  benighted  masses,  |)resenting  to  them 
means  and  guidance  for  self-reliant  acfpiisition  of 
itower;  tho  third,  by  revolutionizing  warfai'e,  dealing 
I  lie  death  blow  to  feudal  tyranny,  and  reducinjj:  the 
ascendancy  of  knights  and  nobles. 

The  succc^ss  of  democratic  rul<>  in  America  has  ex- 
erted a  powerful  iidhienc(>  upon  l^uro[)e.  Autoci'acy 
has  had  to  yield  to  I'ejtresentative  government.  Ru- 
leis  are  obliged  more  and  more  to  conform  to  their 
duty  as  executives  of  ])o])ular  will,  and  1o  study  the 
re(|uii'cments  of  the  masses,  in  order  to  sustain  tliem- 
seKis.  Suhordinate  heads  have  in  similai-  maimer  to 
cnuit  their  ros[)ectivo  constituents  or  a])parent  de- 
f  ikI  rs.  and  to  figure  as  representatives  anil  mouth- 
})ie('es  ratlier  than  masters. 


Tl 


10  comfort  of  the  jicoplo  and  th(^  growth  of  intel- 


ligence, the  I'onesis  of  laws  and  institutions,  are  of  as 


I 


■f'iip 


I,!! 


M  iiisTuuv  \vi:rn?;(;. 

vitnl  import.'itifo  iti  our  study  of  social  nnat<nny,  and 
ill  the  (Icductioii  «»t'  |)iiii(i[tlcs  as  tlu;  jujj^i^lcric.s  of  jio- 
liticid  tricksters.  To  ii^iioru  tlio  cxistfiice  of  tlir  iiia- 
toiiid  conniMsiiig  tlio  ii;itinii  in  writiiiij;  its  liistorv,  is  to 
norsist  in  tliu  retention  of  tlie  ])arbarie  in  historic 
litoraturo. 

The  al)S(Mire  of  allusions  to  tlu;  niass(>s  in  the  IIo- 
iiu-ric;  poetns,  and  in  the  Artliurinii  and  ( 'ai'jovinj^ian 
tales,  is  f-trikin;^.  Yet  wliat  niiiistrid  couhl  coiKh'Scend 
to  ctlehrate  in  soii'j;  tlie  ii\'es  and  thoughts  of  hase- 
honi  dru«h'(  s,  wlien  the  •'•enei-al  was  considered  every- 
tliinsj^,  the  soldier  nothinu^,  th(!  lord  more  than  man, 
the  laborer  less  than  brute.  How  d(»th  the  halo  of 
<livin»!  kinn'shii)  blind  the?  eyes  of  men  I  Lamartine 
saw  in  tioutv  ohl  Louis  XA'III.  a  inaidv  li'_'"uie,  an 
honored  jiero,  clothed  in  nutdest  wisdom  ;  eyes  like 
htju'^i  l<i:iill,  without  anucr,  without  timidity,  reflected 
the  ancestral  nobility  as  in  a  mirror  I 

Not  that  rulers  are  to  be  ii^nored  in  history.  Tho 
•  rood  ruler  influences  the  interests  of  society  as  tho 
mountains  ;j,ive  direction  to  wind  an<l  rain.  \  c;t  in 
scientific  history,  forms  iuid  dij^iiities  must  give  place 
to  human  nature,  mrn-killers  and  })olitical  thimbh- 
litrgcrs  to  iron-smiths  iind  wool-weavers.  KiuLTS  and 
courts  will  never  again  tlgurc  in  hlstoiy  as  hitheito, 
for  as  their  hold  on  us  in  real  life  lessens,  so  docs 
their  hold  in  tradition,  leather  throw  I'aidcand  caste, 
with  patriotic  egoism  and  fanatical  creeds,  to  tlu;  wind, 
and  rest  our  philosophy  on  the  broad  [jrinciples  of 
nature  and  humanity. 

(Jive  rulers,  generals,  and  groat  men  their  place  in 
hist«try — in  tin;  backgi-ound.  These  are  the  creatures, 
not  tho  ci'eators  of  civilization.  Marshal  to  the 
front  goneralizablt!  facts,  from  which  [trinciples  imi)or- 
tant  to  th(^  w<'lfare  of  the  people  may  be  deduced. 
Jjet  u.s  sec  how  nations  originate,  organize,  and  unfold  ; 
lt>t,  us  Gxamiiu>  the  structure  and  operations  of  govern- 
ments, their  polities,  strength,  tyrannies,  and  corru[>- 
tions;  with  civil  government  kt  us  parallel  ecclesias- 


MK\   ANP  XATTONS. 


sn 


i'lccd  ;^)vrniiniiit,  with  its  jKJVVer.s,  rro(Ml(4,  rcrcinoniMls, 
jiiiil  suptTstitioiiH ;  (loiiifstic  customs,  sex  iiinl  family 
rclaiioiisliips.  the;  jtllinitits  and  aiita'^oiiisms  ot"  (■la^s. 
occiiuatioii,  and  cvc  rv  s[)i'ci('S  of  snrial  |»licm»mi  na 
down  to  llic  ii|t|t!irfntly  most  insi;4'nilicant  llalli^s,  an- 
NVfM'tli  our  anMitjoii;  laKor,  industries,  tin;  croiion.'y 
of  wealth,  till'  alls,  the  condition  and  advaiiccmrnt  of 
thf  intcllict.  a-sthc'tic  culture,  morals,  and  evn-ythini!; 
aiinei'taiiiin'^'  to  the  individual  as  well  us  to  tiie  hody 
social  slioiild  ho  critically  considered;  in  short,  the 
|)i'o<^res-(  of  man's  domination  oviT  nature.  Costumes 
as  Will  as  customs  sliould  he  i<'|iro<luced,  for  dress,  no 
less  than  style,  is  the  man,  and  the  man  is  t!;e  na- 
tion. A  half-century  a'U)  poets,  painters,  novelists, 
neitlii-r  knew  nor  can.'d  to  know  the  co.stunies  of  the 
seveial  nations  and  epoclis  of  historv  which  thev  at- 
tempted  to  |iictur(>,  so  that  tlie  t^rossest  anachroidsms 
were  perpetrated.  And  this  was  only  one  phase  of 
the  disregard  for  knowledijje  then  prevalent.  The 
aiialvsis  of  historv  should  l>e  made  inverselv  from  the 
eoiiei-etf!  to  the  ahstract,  from  tlio  ]iom()L;;em'ous  to 
the  lieteidi^'eneous  and  complex.  After  «'xaminin'4 
the  facts,  we  may  i)r{)cced  inductivi-lv  to  ^ener- 
alizations. 

History,  lieaven-l)orn,  descends  to  earth  ;  from  the 
ahstract  to  the  concrete  :  from  tlie  getieral  and  re- 
mote to  the  ])articuhir  and  proximate;  from  the  do- 
iiiL^s  of  demi-n'ods,  lieroes,  and  kitiLifs,  it  comes  to  the 
d"in'j;s  of  huml)l(>r  men.  Min'hty  in  itsori^'inal  asjiira- 
tioHs,  historv  hridifcd  the  chasm  between  lieaven  and 
earth;  then  dro])})in;jf  (h)wn  tlirou<»]i  all  the  modifica- 
tions of  tlie  siMni-supernatural,  throuL;h  all  the  [>hases 
of  divine  and  mortal  rule,  it  finally  rests  upon  tlie 
shoukh'is  of  the  conunon  herd,  which  finally  raises  its 
i-Vi'^  dimly  conscious  of  its  destin}^ 

The  history  of  the  United  States  illustrates  in  ])ar- 
tieulartho  unfoldin;^'  of  thisdestiny,  pre.sentini^a  lesson 
to  the  world  of  practical  enerufv  and  ahle  and  ])i-osj)(  r- 
otis  si'lf-j^'overniui-nt.      We  are  not  as  yet  pr(>[>ared  to 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


IM 
IM 

18 


1.25      1.4 

1.6 

.4 6"     - 

► 

Hiotographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  873-4503 


:a 


J 


86 


HISTORY  WRITING. 


determine  the  exact  relative  importance  to  mankind 
of  the  histories  of  the  difterent  nations  of  the  earth. 
It  may  seem  to  us  now,  that  Greece,  and  Rome,  and 
England  have  exercised  a  broader  and  deeper  influ- 
ence upon  the  destinies  of  man  than  ever  will  Oregon, 
California,  or  Mexico  ;  but  we  cannot  tell.  The  civ- 
ilizations of  antiquity  flourished  while  yet  the  world 
was  small,  and  thought  circumscribed ;  when  the  Pa- 
cific slope  shall  have  had  centuries  of  national  life, 
her  annals  may  tell  of  more  benefits  to  the  race  than 
those  of  Egypt  can  now  boast. 

In  order  to  better  understand  and  bring  forward 
with  proper  spirit  the  current  and  flotsam  of  history, 
the  laws  of  nature  and  humanity  should  be  kept  in 
mind,  and  all  those  natural  and  supernatural  forces 
of  which  w^c  know  so  little  and  feel  so  strongly  ;  for 
these,  to  the  historian,  are  as  the  world's  wind  and 
wat(>r  currents  to  the  meteorologist,  or  as  the  effects 
of  heat  and  i'.itermixtures  to  the  chemist ;  else  there 
is  no  accounting  for  the  insane  wranglings,  the  battles 
and  butcheries  over  nothings,  the  sacrifice  of  millions 
upon  tlie  altar  of  an  inane  idef.  They  proffer  clues  to 
the  modifications  to  w^hich  changeable  man  is  con- 
stantly subjected  by  his  surroundings,  and  to  the  ac- 
tion and  reaction  of  individuals  and  institutions  on 
each  other. 

So  intertwined  and  subtle  are  the  relations  of  man 
and  nature  that  knowledge  of  mankind  constitutes  the 
sum  of  all  knowledge.  Physical  nature  marks  out  a 
path  to  human  nature,  and  human  nature  in  turn  be- 
comes the  key  to  physical  nature ;  as  in  the  motions 
of  matter  so  in  the  emotions  of  mind,  whether  evolved 
or  artificialh^  created,  human  passions  and  proclivities 
act  and  react  on  cacli  other,  are  measured  relatively 
not  absolutely,  and  balanced  one  by  another.  Hence 
it  is  that  change  in  one  place  involves  change  in  an- 
other, and  any  deviation  from  the  general  plan  would 
result  in  a  totally  different  order  of  things. 


THINGS  EASILY  FOROOTTEN. 


87 


)  mankind 
the  earth, 
ilouic,  and 
eper  uitlu- 
ill  Oregon, 
The  civ- 
the  world 
en  the  Pa- 
tional  hfc, 
3  race  than 


ig  forward 
of  history, 
[  be  kept  in 
ural   forces 
rcnigly  ;  for 
8  wind  and 
s  the  effects 
;  else  there 
,  the  battles 
of  millions 
ff  or  clues  to 
ion  is  con- 
1  to  the  ac- 
itutions  on 

[ma  of  man 
Istitutes  the 
Inarks  out  a 

in  turn  be- 
[he  motions 
Iher  evolved 
1  proclivities 
relatively 
Icr.  Hence 
lange  in  an- 

1  plan  would 


■^^ 


We  nmst  remember  that  individuals,  institutions, 
ami  societies  are  developed,  not  self-created;  and  thatin 
this  evolution  evil  instruments  are  employed  in  com- 
mon with  good  ;  that  the  virtue  of  one  age  is  the  vice 
of  another,  and  the  beauty  of  one  age  the  deformity 
of  aiiotlicr.  We  do  not  realize  how  infinitesimal 
arc  our  origiuatings,  how  infinite  the  powers  that 
mould  us;  we  do  not  consider  that  in  the  ideal,  as  in 
the  material  world,  there  is  no  escape  from  external 
iiitluences,  that  society  fastens  upon  every  member 
jaws  as  iuticxible  as  the  laws  of  nature,  and  that 
wc  rest  under  dire  necessity.  We  may  imagine  our- 
selves free  when  in  truth  we  are  bound  to  the  strict- 
est servitude.  Statutory  laws,  with  their  limited  re- 
straint, may  be  evaded,  but  disobedience  to  the  laws 
of  nature  is  promptly  punished  by  nature  herself. 
Divine  law  comprehends  all  law,  but  divhie  punish- 
ment is  remote  and  undefined.  The  laws  of  society 
liowever,  are  more  domineering  than  all  other  laws 
coiiiliined,  and,  althougli  punishing  with  but  a  frown, 
till  y  are  more  dreaded  than  either  the  laws  of  nations 
or  tlio  laws  of  nature 

We  forget,  moreover,  that  civilization,  this  evolu- 
tion of  the  mechanical  from  the  mechanical,  and  of  the 
mental  from  the  mental,  with  all  its  attendant  moral- 
ities, p(>]ities,and  religions,  is  not  a  human  invention; 
tliat  great  ideas,  great  consequences  are  born  of  time, 
not  orighiated  by  man  nor  self-imposed;  that  indi- 
viduals owe  their  intelliuence  and  their  ignorance  to 
the  age  and  society  in  which  by  their  destiny  they 
arc  projected,  and  that  society  nmst  first  make  a  place 
for  the  great  man  before  it  can  produce  one ;  nay, 
more,  that  man  with  his  mighty  intellect  originates 
nothing,  not  even  one  poor  thought,  for  trains  of 
tl'.ought  inevitably  follow  trains  of  circumstances,  and 
every  tliought  is  but  one  in  a  seciuence  of  tliought, 
dt'])endent  upon  its  correlative,  the  seed  of  its  pi'ogen- 
itor,  the  germ  of  its  successor,  and  that  man  can  no 
mer-u    originate    or    exterminate    tliought    than    he 


jfl 


88 


HISTORY  WRITING. 


can  originate  or  exterminate  a  solar  system,  so  tliat 
our  ideas  are  ever  coming  and  gomg,  antl,  whether 
we  will  or  not,  gathering  color  and  volume  from  every 
fresli  experience — I  say  we  forget  all  this  and  a  thous- 
and other  things  of  like  hnport,  when  we  so  sagely 
sit  in  judgment  on  our  fellows. 

Some  intimation  humanity  has  of  its  elevation  from 
tlie  earthy  hy  this  subtle  power,  for  in  the  naming  of 
itself,  in  speaking  the  word  "man"  it  says  "thinker," 
such  beinyj  the  siijnification.  Man,  thinker,  and  not 
alone  brute,  not  stolid  senseless  brain  and  nmscle  only, 
but  thinker.  So  if  we  would  be  men  and  not  ani- 
mals only  we  must  think,  and  the  more  we  think  the 
less  brutish  we  will  be.  Herein  is  a  world  of  philos- 
ophy, and  moreover  nmch  strength,  for  thought  breeds 
knowledge,  and  knowledge  is  strength. 

Innumerable  varieties  of  thought  arc  generated  by 
innumerable  varieties  of  circumstance,  as  plants  are 
generated  by  soil  and  climate.  Men,  in  so  far  as  they 
think  at  all,  think  differently  ;  few  are  wholly  wrong. 
Judgment  is  always  perverted  by  our  teachings,  which 
consist  largely  of  fallacies. 

In  our  estimations  of  human  nature  the  great  fault 
lies  in  our  restricted  vision,  and  in  the  narrow-minded 
and  one-sided  views  of  life  which  are  taken  even  by 
the  profoundest  scholars  in  every  branch  of  learning. 
By  some,  humanity  is  studied  as  an  art;  by  others,  as 
a  science.  Some  consider  proximate  causes  only,  en- 
dow mankind  with  absolute  volition,  make  the  indi- 
vidual the  arbiter  of  his  fate,  governing,  yet  in  some 
measure  being  governed  by  his  surroundings;  for- 
tuitous circumstances  are  referred  to  divine  interposi- 
tions, unexplainable  phenomena  are  thrown  back  upon 
the  supernatural,  and  the  supernatural  in  return  ex- 
plains all  mysteries.  Herein  life  is  an  art.  Others 
raise  their  eyes  to  causations  more  remote ;  they  be- 
liold  the  broad  eternal  stream  of  progress  from  afar, 
human  rivers  flowing  on  solemnly,  resistlessly,  in 
channels  predetermined,     They  see  in  the  civiliza- 


1^ 


STUDY  OF  HUMANITY 


89 


tions  cf  nations,  in  the  evolutions  of  successive  socie- 
ties, an  orderly  march,  uniform  in  impulse,  under  the 
direction  of  supreme  intelligence,  and  regulated  by 
piiniordial  laws.  They  see  the  tide  of  human  atfairs 
fl)l)iiig  and  liowing,  now  sinking  into  the  depths  of 
tlie  material,  now  rising  to  the  confines  of  the  spiritual, 
but  ever  firmly  bound  by  omnipotence.  From  tlie 
assoriation  of  human  intellects  they  perceive  engen- 
dering progressional  phenomena,  under  an  hifiuence 
vivifving  as  the  sun  and  pal})able  as  the  air  we 
breathe;  a  living  principle,  like  conditions  ever  pro- 
ducing like  results.  Circumstances  apparently  for- 
tuitous tliey  refer  to  the  same  natural  laws  that 
govern  tlie  knowable,  and  the  genesis  of  progress 
tlicy  hold  to  be  one  with  the  genesis  of  man.  This 
view  raises  the  study  of  humanity  into  a  science ; 
and  thus  is  human  life  pictured  on  opposite  sides  of 
the  sliield,  and  discussed  by  minds  practical  on  the 
one;  hand  and  by  minds  speculative  on  the  other. 
True  pliilosophy,  however,  grasps  at  entireties;  man 
is  made  U[)  of  many  elements,  of  endless  imimlses  as 
well  as  fixed  principles  ;  take  away  })arts  of  his  nature 
and  lie  becomes  denaturalized,  becomes  either  more  or 
less  than  man. 

Every  philosophic  writer  of  history  has  his  own 
ideas  of  primal  causes  and  underlying  principles  reg- 
ulating society  and  progress.  Thus  Buckle  makes 
natural  j)hcnomena  and  a  priori  necessity  the  basis  of 
his  |)liilosophy  of  history  ;  Draper  rears  his  structure 
on  the  physiological  idea;  Froude  sees  in  the  ambi- 
tions and  passions  of  men  the  domineering  elements 
of  social  energetics,  while  Goldwin  Smith  believes  in 
tlie  direct  interposition  of  the  creator  in  the  affairs  of 
mvn.  Very  different  were  the  old-time  explanations 
of  social  ]>lienomena  from  these  latter-day  explain<>rs. 
]\[an(l((ville  went  so  far  as  to  make  moral  virtue  spring 
from  the  cunning  of  rulers,  who  the  better  to  govern 
tlu^r  subjects  persuaded  them  to  restraiji  their  pas- 
sions and  achieve  the  good — so  low  were  the  estimates 


90 


HISTORY  WRITING. 


placed  by  the  teachers  of  mankind  upon  the  over- 
ruhiig  of  social  afliiirs. 

All  seem  to  agree  that  an  unseen  mj^sterious  force 
has  some  direction  of  human  affairs,  and  rules  them 
by  intelligent  laws  for  man's  advancement.  It 
matters  little  for  the  purposes  of  history  what  this 
subtle  force  is  called,  whether  free-will,  necessity, 
progress,  or  providence.  Says  Jean  Paul  Richter, 
"Nature  forces  on  our  heart  a  creator;  liistory  a 
providence."  The  religionist  sees  in  history  God's 
l)lan  concerning  mankind,  and  the  records  of  our 
race  are  to  him  but  sequent  supernatural  interferences. 
The  scientist  sees  va\  unfolding,  and  in  studying  causa- 
tions discovers  laws.  But  whether  these  laws  are 
called  God's  or  nature's  they  are  the  same  in  origin 
and  in  operation.  This  much,  liowever,  I  think  may 
safely  be  said :  No  one  seeks  truth  with  keener  zest 
or  with  higher  aspirations  toward  that  which  is  beau- 
tiful and  go(/d  than  the  skeptic.  He  alone  who  rests 
satisfied  in  the  stolid  ignorance  of  an  old  and  trodden 
path  prefers  falsehood. 

The  historian  of  "innumerable  biographies,"  with 
mind  of  breadth  and  depth  sufficient  to  take  in  at  one 
view  the  whole  of  this  vast  theme,  has  yet  to  come 
forward.  Greatness  in  great  thiuq;s  is  seldom  found 
united  to  greatness  in  little  things;  individual  action 
so  ill  accords  with  pliilosophic  speculation,  that  it  is 
with  extreme  difficulty  the  practical  mind  is  drawn 
from  innnediate  practical  results,  or  the  speculative 
mind  can  be  brought  down  to  the  careful  considera- 
tion of  the  proximate.  "To  realize  with  any  adequacy 
the  force  of  a  passion  we  have  never  experienced,"  re- 
marks Ijccky,  "  to  conceive  a  type  of  character  radi- 
cally different  from  our  own,  above  all,  to  form  any 
just  a])preciation  of  the  lawlessness  and  obtuseness  of 
moral  temperament,  inevitably  generated  by  a  vicious 
education,  requires  a  power  of  imagination  which  is 
among  the  rarest  of  human  endowments." 

There  are  those  who  claim  that  many  of  the  leading 


INSIGNIFICANT  >LUIVELS. 


91 


the  over- 

jrious  force 
rules  them 
iincnt.      It 
what  this 
,  necessity, 
ul  Richter, 
;  history  a 
story  God's 
)rds   of  our 
itcrfcrences. 
lying  causa- 
se  laws  are 
lie  in  origin 
[  thhik  n»ay 
keener  zest 
lich  is  bcau- 
10  who  rests 
and  trodden 

phics,"  with 
,ke  hi  at  one 
,ot  to  come 
Icldoni  found 
idual  action 
)!!,  that  it  is 
id  is  drawn 
speculative 
il  considcra- 
ly  adequacy 
Iricnced,"  re- 
lacter  radi- 
,()  form  any 
Ibtuseness  of 
by  a  vicious 
in  which  is 

the  leading 


events  of  history  spring  from  trivial  accidents,  ignoring 
wliicli,  in  his  efforts  at  more  dignified  causations,  the 
writer  exaggerates  or  warps  the  truth.  This  may  be 
so  to  aliinited  extent.  But  when  William  Mathews 
soberly  affirms  that  "half  of  the  great  movements  in 
tlio  world  are  brouglit  about  by  means  far  more  in- 
si;'iiilicant  tlian  a  Helen's  beauty  or  an  Acliillcs' 
wrath,"  that  "one  more  pang  of  doubt  in  the  tossed 
and  wavering  soul  of  Luther,  and  the  current  of  the 
world's  history  would  have  been  changed,"  he  is  far 
t'ldin  the  fact.  And  wdien  this  writer  continues,  "had 
( "l((i[iatra's  nose  been  shorter,  had  the  spider  not 
woven  its  web  across  the  cave  in  which  Mahomet 
took  rrfugc,  had  Luther's  friend  escaped  the  tliunder- 
storni,"  mankind  shall  never  know  what  might  have 
Ixcii.  he  approaches  the  burlesque.  As  Fontanelle 
iniiaiks,  "L'histoire  a  pour  objet  les  effets  irreguliers 
])as.si()ns  et  dcs  caprices  des  homines,  et  une  suite 
I'L'vunenients  si  bizarres,  que  Ton  a  autrefois  imagind 
uno  divinite  avengle  et  insensee  pour  lui  en  donner  la 
direction." 

Another  sums  up  fifteen  decisive  battles,  any  one 
of  wliicli,  if  resulting  dift'erently, would  have  brought 
(h'struction  on  mankind.  Western  civilizati(m  would 
liavo  been  blotted  out  had  not  Asia  been  checked  at 
Marathon.  And  what  would  have  happened,  that 
(hd  not  liappon,  had  Hasdrubal  won,  had  Theinistoclcs 
lost,  had  Charles  Martcl  been  overthrown  by  the 
Saracens,  or  had  Napoleon  been  successful  at  Leipzig, 
sages  recite  as  though  reading  from  a  record. 

While  Wellington  waited  Bluchers  arrival  at 
Waterloo  the  sun  stood  still  to  see  whether  its  services 
should  be  wanted  more  on  this  planet.  In  like  inan- 
nrr  momentous  turning-points  are  discovered  in  state- 
craft, politics,  and  progress. 

Iluniholdt  saw  in  the  discovery  of  Columbus  a 
"wonderful  concatenation  of  trivial  circumstances," 
and  Irving  gives  a  strhig  of  incidents  to  show  that 
something  dreadful  might  have  happened  if  Columbus 


!^^ 


92 


HISTOIIY  WllITIXG. 


];a(l  rosistcd  Pinzon's  counsel,  when  the  latter  was  in- 
spirc?d  by  the  sight  of  a  flock  of  parrots  to  steer  wc  st- 
wunl.  Mr  Mill  sagely  observes,  "  If  Mary  had  lived 
a  little  longer,  or  Elizabeth  died  sooner,  the  refornia- 
t'-on  would  have  been  crushed  in  England."  An  iiniate 
love  for  the  marvellous  fondles  these  assumptions  ;  but 
human  affairs  do  not  flow  in  such  shallow  channels  as 
to  be  turned  from  their  course  by  the  falling  of  a 
pebble,  or  if  turned  from  one  course  they  find  another 
which  answers  as  well.  It  does  not  seem  reasonable 
that  liad  not  the  Medes  and  Persians,  the  Saracens, 
the  French,  and  the  rest  of  them,  been  checked  just 
wh(>re  they  were,  that  we  all  would  now  be  ]\Iahom- 
etans  or  Frenchmen.  And  surely  it  does  not  argue 
well  for  Christ's  care  of  his  church  to  make  its  welfare 
dependent  upon  the  accident  of  a  woman's  fate. 

Nature  and  the  (ireat  Inexorable  have  some  voice 
in  the  dispensation  of  human  aflairs  as  well  as  Blucher, 
Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  or  Napoleon.  These  persons 
were  but  creatures  of  circumstances,  and  the  events 
that  raised  them  could  have  found  other  means  and 
instruments.  Politics  and  govermnents  may  run  away 
with  themselves,  and  with  one  another,  but  the  master 
is  sure  to  bring  them  back.  The  moral  ideal  of  every 
society  is  stronger  than  its  greatest  fi'iend  or  enemy. 

The  great  mass  of  readers,  even  of  history,  seem  to 
prefer  to  have  their  thinking  done  for  them.  It  is 
not  given  to  every  man  to  think  as  all  the  world  shall 
think  a  century  hence.  The  deepest  original  thinkers 
add  little  to  the  world  of  thought ;  but  from  those 
who  hiie  their  thinking  the  world  learns  nothinijf. 
They  are  not  satisfied  with  the  bald  facts,  but  must 
have  them  well  coated  with  romance  and  theory  be- 
fore they  are  palatable.  The  chief  art  of  partisan 
historians  is  to  make  the  facts  of  history  sufficiently 
pliable  to  fit  pre-determined  principles.  Their  plan  is 
not  to  deduce  but  to  induce.  Too  often  even  amono- 
philosophic  writers,  history  is  but  a  special  pleadiiiL^ 
— as  iu  the  case  of  Thirwall  and  Mitford,  who  take 


SrECIAL  I'LEADINfJ. 


93 


ittcr  was  in- 
)  steer  Avcst- 
ry  had  lived 
;he  reforina- 
'   An  innate 
nptions ;  but 
cliannels  as 
falling  of  a 
find  another 
n  reasonable 
he  Saracens, 
checked  just 
be  Mahom- 
es  not  argue 
ic  its  welfare 
's  fate, 
c  some  voice 
11  as  Blucher, 
"hese  persons 
d  the  events 
er  means  and 
nay  run  away 
nt  the  master 
deal  of  every 
nd  or  enemy. 
x)ry,  seem  to 
tliem.     It  is 
e  world  shall 
inal  thinkers 
t  from  those 
rns   nothhig. 
ts,  but  must 
d  theory  be- 
■j  of  partisan 
y  sufficiently 
Their  plan  is 
even  amono' 
icial  pleading,' 
rd,  who  take 


ilu'  facts  of  Cn^cian  Jiistory,  and  warp  them,  one  to 
suit  democratic  ideas,  and  tlie  other  aristocratic ;  or  of 
Alil»«»Lt  and  Allison,  wlio  in  writing  of  the  French, 
stution  (lod's  providence  on  opposite  sides.  The  pro- 
ticiciit  historian  will  range  his  facts  in  natural  se- 
nii*  r.ce,  so  that  each  event  may  show  at  once  its 
ni'^iu  and  its  intluence, — and  herehi  lies  the  essence 
of  lii4ory  writing, — while  for  his  philosophy  of  his- 
tniv  tlic  student  sliould  draw  from  his  Hegel  or  his 
S.  lili  ,ij;el  ratlier  than  recjuire  the  narrator  of  facts  to 
warp  tli(  lu  for  popular  or  prejudiced  views.  As  in 
orolo;4ical  science  we  discover  a  chronology  of  the 
iiiatcnal,  so  in  liistory  there  is  a  chronology  of  the  im- 
material. A  fact  in  history,  like  a  relic  in  arclneology, 
mav  from  its  form  and  character  be  ascribed  its  proper 
place  or  epoch.  There  are  the  beliefs,  the  politics, 
till"  moralities  of  our  period,  which  by  no  possibility 
could  appear  in  another. 

"  To  serve  more  effectually  the  philosophical  ex- 
jilanation  of  the  past,"  says  iSoah  Porter,  "the  great 
iiio\ciiicnts  of  historic  progress  in  separate  lines  and 
tlie  .'^cv(Tal  agencies  on  wliicli  they  depend  have  been 
treated  of  in  distinct  works."  To  this  separate  treat- 
ment of  topics  j)articular  attention  should  be  given  in 
all  historical  writings,  bringing  severally  forward  the 
progress  of  conuncrce,  agriculture,  education,  and 
various  kindred  sections  of  the  ground  covered,  so  as 
to  enable  the  mind  to  see  the  effects  of  each  of  these 
civilizing  agents  on  society  apart  from  other  causes 
and  efiects. 

To  )»ure  and  healthy  minds  the  plain  trutli  has 
fascinations  which  no  fiction,  however  brilliant,  can 
equal.  A  taste  for  the  latter  can  be  cultivated,  how- 
ever, until  it  surpasses  the  former.  The  child  contin- 
ually asks  of  tlio  story  told.  Is  it  true?  But  by-and- 
liv  we  fijid  half  the  world  reading  romance,  men  and 
women  of  all  cla^.ses,  ages,  and  grades  of  hitelligence 
d'  vouring  sliadow  as  though  it  were  substance,  filling 
tLLiiiselvcs  with  wind,  imagining  it  to  be  food,  laugli- 


^m 


94 


HISTORY  WRITING. 


ini:;  and  woopingj  over  tlio  airy  nothings  of  novelistF:. 
all  tho  \v]iil(^  knovviii!!^  tlicni  to  be  false  yet  pretending 
them  to  be  true.  And  those  who  can  make  this  false 
glitter  appear  most  like  truth  are  called  artists,  and 
apparently  esteemed  more  highly  than  if  they  dealt 
only  in  truth.  Novels  afford  us  pastime  and  keep  us 
young ;  liut  it  is  a  most  remarkable  commentary  on 
the  mental  and  moral  construction  of  humanity,  this 
preference  of  pleasing  fiction  to  substantial  fact ;  and 
yet,  in  the  earlier  processes  of  the  mind,  as  we  have 
seen,  truth  has  its  fascinations. 

In  the  domain  of  sober  history,  pure  unadulterated 
facts  were  never  in  greater  demand  than  in  the  pres- 
ent practical  and  material  age.  During  the  past 
thirty  centuries  and  more,  the  world  has  had  its  fill 
of  windy  speculations;  bubbles  blown  by  wondering 
savages,  half-crazed  i)hilosophers,  and  bigoted  church- 
men. Tt  is  the" raw  material  that  worlds  are  made  of, 
and  guided  by,  and  more  knowledge  of  the  propelling 
power  that  drives  forward  the  mighty  machine  called 
civilization,  that  we  nov  desire  to  see  and  handle. 

T'^istory  is  not  alone  facts,  not  alone  ideas,  but  facts 
in  their  relation  to  ideas.  The  duty  of  the  historian 
is  not  only  to  present  truth,  but  to  demand  its  origin 
and  significance.  According  to  Cousin's  conception: 
"To  recall  ever}''  fact,  even  the  most  minute,  to  its 
general  law,  to  the  law  wliich  alone  causes  it  to  be: 
to  examine  its  relation  with  other  facts  referred  also 
to  their  laws  ;  and  from  relations  to  relations  to  arrive 
at  seizing  the  relation  of  the  most  fugitive  particular- 
ity, to  the  most  general  idea  of  an  epoch,  to  the  lofty 
rule  of  history."  Continuing  tiie  same  thoughts  by 
Froude;  "When  historians  have  to  relate  great  so- 
cial or  speculative  changes,  the  overthrow  of  a  mon- 
archy or  the  establishment  of  a  creed,  they  do  but 
half  their  duty  if  they  merely  relate  the  events.  In 
an  account,  for  instance,  of  the  rise  of  Mahometan- 
ism,  it  is  not  enough  to  describe  the  character  of  the 
prophet,  the  ends  which  he  set  before  him,  the  means 


INCOXORUITTES  AND  EXAGfiERATIONS. 


06 


of  noveHstp, 
t  prctpiiditi'j; 
ike  this  falsi ^ 
I  artists,  and 
if  tlioy  dealt 
and  keep  us 
nnicntary  on 
nnanity,  this 
ial  fact ;  and 
I,  as  we  have 

madultcrated 
1  in  the  pres- 
ng   the    past 
IS  had  its  fill 
by  wondering 
jjoted  cliurch- 
5  are  made  of, 
the  propelling 
lachine  called 
id  handle, 
leas,  but  facts 
the  historian 
and  its  origin 
s  conceptii>n: 
iiinute,  to  its 
ises  it  to  be : 
efcrred  also 
i(Mis  to  arrive 
particular- 
to  the  lofty 
thoughts  by 
ate  great  so- 
ow  of  a  mon- 
they  do  but 
events.     In 
Mahometan- 
racter  of  the 
in,  the  means 


vo 


i 


wliich  he  made  use  of,  and  the  effect  which  he  pro- 
(hiced  ;  the  historian  must  show  what  there  was  iu 
llif  condition  of  the  eastern  races  wliich  enabled  Ma- 
liouirt  to  act  upon  them  so  powerfully;  their  existing 
beliefs,  their  existing  moral  and  political  condition." 

While  laying  the  foundations  of  history  for  an  im- 
portant section  of  the  world,  as  did  Herodotus,  the 
writer  sliould  with  Horace,  in  a  series  of  fahlntnx  vi- 
Tdiil.^,  carry  the  reader  into  the  very  heart  of  the  sub- 
ject, and  in  the  examination  of  antecedents  bring  to 
iiis  aid  the  mirror  of  Lao,  by  which  the  mind  as  well 
as  the  visible  form  is  reflected. 

Certain  molecules  are  sure  to  assume  given  shapes 
ill  ag:j;n'gating ;  each  element  of  matter  has  its  own 
form  of  crystalization.  So  it  is  with  human  societies; 
ascertain  elemental  and  individual  qualities,  and  you 
may  predict  results.  As  the  universal  brotherhood 
of  man  becomes  more  and  more  apparent,  the  brother- 
hood of  historv  is  no  less  recognized.  Nations  act 
and  react  on  each  other,  and  a  history  of  one  cannot 
be  complete  while  relating  nothinjx  of  atiother.  Nor 
yet  alone  by  years  are  historical  epochs  measured. 
Ill  modern  history  are  things  ancient,  and  in  ancient, 
things  modern.  A  century  before  Christ,  the]  vomans, 
in  their  intentions  and  actions,  were  more  like  our- 
selves than  were  their  successors  four  or  five  centu- 
ries later.  The  stream  of  human  jjrogress  at  the 
bottom  is  compact  and  silent  in  its  flow,  while  the 
surface  abounds  in  eddies,  whirlpools,  and  counter- 
currents.  The  branches  and  foliage  of  the  tree  are 
ill  tlieir  substance  equivalent  to  the  volume  and  diame- 
ter of  the  truidc  from  which  they  shoot;  so  the  life  of 
man  is  not  that  which  it  now  appears,  a  network  of 
erratic  energies,  swayed  by  every  wiiul  of  passion,  but 
the  sum  of  wide-spread  influences,  which,  uprising  with 
the  birth  of  time,  unfolds  from  roots  of  good  and  evil. 

]\[any  of  the  exaggerations  of  history  have  undoubt- 
edly their  origin  in  the  writer's  effort  at  brilliancy  in 
liaiiiting  character;  and  nothing  is   truer   than  La 


■■il 


II 


06 


HISTORY  WRITING. 


¥M 


}r!irj)o's  remark  "On  affaiblit  toujours  co  qui  on  ex- 
agoro."  Sucli  eftortH  tend  to  perdition,  for  before  tJie 
writer  is  aware  of  it  ho  is  sacrificing  truth  to  style  in 
an  eiideavor  to  please  rather  than  to  instruct.  There 
nil!  few  writers,  who  if  they  spoke  truly  could  but 
a(hiiit  with  J^uiii  Paul  that  "there  was  a  time  when 
truth  charmed  me  less  than  itsornament;  the  thought 
less  than  the  form  in  which  it  was  exi)ressed."  Some 
regai'd  style  of  tlie  first  importance  ;  others  make  style 
secondary  to  substance.  Time  was,  and  not  long 
since,  when  style  was  not  oidy  the  man,  but  tlu^  book; 
when  naked  facts  were  savagisms  not  admissil)le  into 
conventional  literature.  Ornamentation  was  more 
than  dress,  and  dress  more  than  the  body.  Un- 
less minted  by  philosophical  and  rhetorical  flourish, 
the  most  golden  of  truths  were  not  current.  Haply, 
nf)\v  wo  will  gladly  take  the  gold  wherever  t)r  in  what- 
ev(a'  form  we  find  it,  even  if  it  be  not  already  exchange- 
able coin. 

On  the  whole  we  may  say  that  the  heroic  in  histor- 
ical composition  has  given  place  to  the  scientific,  the 
romantic  and  popular  to  the  austere  and  truthful. 
Yet  it  is  impossible  w'holly  to  separate  romance  from 
reality.  Fiction  must  have  truth  for  its  base,  while 
staid  indeed  must  be  the  narrative  which  is  not  tinged 
with  romance.  There  are  historical  romances  less 
romantic  than  the  histories  themselves — instance  the 
Cyrus  of  Xenophon  as  compared  with  the  Cyrus  of 
Herodotus. 

Let,  then,  him  who  in  writing  history  would  bathe 
his  rigid  lind)S  in  pools  of  inspiration,  and  dip  his  am- 
bitious ])en  in  auroral  colors,  pray  the  gods  that  fancy 
may  not  outstrip  fact. 


To  religion  must  be  accorded  the  foremost  credit 
of  sustaining  alike  ignorance  and  learning.  The  posi- 
tion of  its  servants,  from  the  early  sorcerer,  medicine- 
man, and  astrologer,  to  the  brahmin,  muezzin,  or  pope, 
made  them  the  middlemen  between  the  masses  and 


LEGENDS  AND  TKADITIONS. 


07 


tlii^  awo-inspirint^  forrca  of  nature,  and  rendered 
kiiowli'(lu;('.  or  the  hiding  of  it,  tlio  (►bject  of  their  lives, 
the  (  xeiiso  for  thi'ir  oeeujjation,  tlie  apology  for  tlieir 
(•\isifiu'e.  As  th(!  means  for  inHuenee  it  Ijeeaine  to 
tlifiii  iis  ein'rent  coin. 

Thecollectionand  transcription  of  leij^cnds  and  trad i- 
tioin  iiit')  the  'general  wliole  formed  part  of  tlieir  work- 
iii'j;('ii|)itMl.  The  leisure  im[)osed  by  their  vowsand  con- 
(litinii>i)n  priests,  and  monks,  and  anarchists,  promoted 
tilt  ir  lahois.  Their  character  has  been  stamped  on 
most  national  literature,  adding  to  the  mysticism  of 
jincicnt  records.  The  Veda  is  as  widely  ditiiised  in 
India  as  the  reli;4io-l)hiloso[)hic  precepts  of  Confucius 
in  tilt'  ( 'elestial  kingdom,  influencing  the  conduct  of 
a  hv'u-  proportion  of  tlu;  human  race.  The  Koran 
spri'ails  over  many  smaller  nationalities,  and  the  Bible 
liflped  ti>  shaj)e  tlie  tlestinies  of  the  advanced  among 
natitins,  j)(>nneating  the  middle  a;j,''S  with  unparalleled 
tfiiatity.  Not  uidiko  these  was  the  influence  of  the 
rt)pul  N'uli,  and  other  ancient  records  of  civilized 
Aniti'jca. 

The  first  of  the  historians  who  began  to  place  on 
record  the  myths  and  traditions  of  their  nation,  made 
adthtionsand  variations oftheir  own  mostly  with  afraidi 
ellort  at  truth  ;  yet  they  were  not  devoid  of  invention 
and  wilful  falsification.  Dealing  in  the  impossible, 
they  readily  fell  back  upon  the  supernatural  to  deliver 
them  from  every  dilemma  ;  and  being  filled  with  dim 
conceptions  regarding  the  origin  and  end  of  things, 
and  that  insane  fervor,  sometimes  called  inspiration, 
tlicy  were  well-conditioned  to  prepare  for  peoples  just 
aroused  from  savagism  the  bases  of  mental  pabulum, 
whioli  well  enough  served  the  purpose  for  certain 
centuries. 

The  secular  historian  had  to  wait  for  the  unfolding 
of  Iil)eral  ideas,  as  in  Greece,  fo.stered  like  himself  in 
the  civilizing  circle  of  foreign  intercourse  and  trade. 
He  was  a  traveller,  roused  by  the  excitement  of  mo- 
tion and  the  novelty  of  changing  aspects,  which  also 

liSSAYS   AND   MlSlEl.LANY      7 


ril 


I'l! 


\m 


08  HISTORY  WRITIXO. 

brought  comparison  and  judgment.  Inquiry  and 
skepticism  brought  improvement  upon  mere  narrative, 
in  i»Iiilosophic  history,  to  which  further  strength  was 
imparted  through  the  agency  of  comjnlatlon.  Tlie 
subsequent  lialt  in  progress  was  marked  by  the  revival 
in  tlie  troubadour  of  Homeric  reciters. 

Improvement  was  slow  though  perceptible.  Follow- 
ing the  gleam  that  breaks  til rougli  the  mist  we  behold 
those  who  begin  to  weigii  evidence ;  yet  they  venture 
only  partially  to  force  their  way  through  the  tram- 
mels cast  round  them  bv  veneration  for  the  divine 
authority  and  natii  iial  character  of  the  earliest  books. 
This  is  stron<j;lv  illustrated  bv  the  chroniclers  of  the 
twelfth  and  seventeenth  centuries,  who  mark  therein 
also  the  retron;ression  of  the  middle  asjes. 

Modern  historians  pride  themselves  on  being  freed 
from  the  superstitions  which  clouded  the  views  ef 
their  predecessors,  and  on  having  gained  a  truer  in- 
siglit  into  events;  but  how  shrouded  are  still  their 
pcrceptiims  by  inherited  and  acquired  bias,  and  how 
distorted  bv  subordination  to  irrelevant  aims.  ¥c\\ 
histories  stand  relieved  from  partisan  s[)irit.  Sonic 
seek  to  uphold  a  liberal  administration,  others  a  con- 
servative policy;  some  the  influence  of  ecclesiastics 
and  nobles,  others  to  champion  the  cause  of  the 
masses ;  some  seek  to  justify  the  acts  of  a  certai'i 
potentate,  others  to  correct  the  omissions  or  jtrojudict  s 
of  recorders.  The  mere  effort  to  strengthen  their 
artjument  brings  about  coloring  and  exaunx-ration, 
ev(>n  if  it  does  not  carry  them  so  far  as  tlie  class 
which  writes  to  prove  some  predetermined  pro})(isi- 
tion,  and  warp  every  fact  to  fit  the  theory.  Thdi 
there  are  those  who  write  for  reputation  and  display, 
who  strive  to  excel  in  the  narration  of  some  taK, 
to  elaborate  into  romance  some  brilliant  epoch  or 
episode,  too  often  at  the  expense  of  accuracy.  Never- 
theless we  encounter  those  who  write  to  tell  txie  trutli 
for  the  simple  love  of  it,  actuated  by  a  sense  of 
fairness;  and  others  there  are  who,  confident  in  their 


VARIOUS  INFLUENCES. 


99 


power  to  control  prejudices  and  exaggerations,  and  to 
di.scriiiiinate,  yield  freely  to  style  as  well  as  argument 
ill  Older  to  impart  force  to  the  incident  and  theory. 

In  tlic  championship  of  a  dogma  or  doctrine  by  the 
religionist  or  scientist,  fanaticism  in  some  form  is 
seldom  wliolly  separable.  In  regard  to  the  former, 
it  is  utterly  impossible  for  him  to  see  clearly  where 
Ills  faith  is  affected.  He  may  be  honest  and  conscien- 
tious, intelligent  and  virtuous;  his  very  honest}'^  and 
viituo  arc  barriers  between  him  and  truth.  He  has 
liccii  taught  to  believe  that  upon  his  religion  rests  tlic 
uiiiviTse,  that  his  chctrimi  is  the  embodiment  of 
tnilli;  that  by  his  holy  book  all  human  events,  all 
sciriicc,  all  liistory,  all  that  has  been  and  is  to  be  must 
1h'  adjusted  ;  that  by  his  deity  exist  the  eternal  hills, 
and  all  foi'ccs,  attractive  and  re})ulsive,  and  all  worlds, 
and  all  space,  and  light,  and  life,  and  time.  And  as 
];('  lias  been  taught,  so  he  has  promised  to  teach ;  he 
may  not  investigate;  he  is  bound;  he  would  say  ho 
is  hound  to  the  truth,  but  of  that  he  may  not  ques- 
tion, and  he  has  no  desire  to  question.  He  may  not 
suhscribe  to  modern  miracles,  but  he  nmst  to  ancient 
ones  ;  lie  may  trust  reason  and  science  for  the  })resent, 
but  for  the  past,  liis  sacred  book  su|)plies  all.  The 
impi'obable,  impossible  stories,  the  insane  assertions 
of  dim  human  intelligences,  of  blind  ignorance,  words 
of  men  spoken  in  the  earlier  stages  of  mental  devcl- 
o|iment — these  and  the  like  are  to  be  taken  as  the 
omnipotence  of  truth,  onmipotence  and  truth  as  pre- 
s(  nteil  by  nature,  sense,  and  reason  to  the  contrary 
notwithstanding. 

In  a  similar  realm  of  obscurity,  blinded  by  the 
etrulu;ence  of  inflowing  light,  stands  the  scientist  who 
subscrihes  to  the  unprovable  propositions  of  sonic 
scliool,  or  is  seized  by  some  conception  of  his  own, 
the  estahlishment  of  which  absorbs  his  best  efforts, 
and  iiecomes  the  dearest  object  of  his  life. 

Su|ierstition  is  not  alone  of  the  past,  nor  is  bigotry 
confint;d  to  religion.     There  is  a  fanaticism  of  liberty 


iWl 


!fll 


I: 


t' 


100 


HISTORY  WRITING. 


as  well  as  a  faaaticism  of  enslavement.  There  is  a 
bigctry  of  libertinism  no  less  tlian  a  bigotry  of  secta- 
rianism ;  there  are  in  atheism  zealots  as  blind  as  ever 
disgraced  theism  or  deism.  The  pope  claims  infalli- 
bility in  the  face  of  protests  from  all  unfettered 
minds;  but  dogmatic  extremists,  of  whatsoever  sect 
or  creed,  likewise  assume  infallibility  in  denouncing 
opinions  opposed  to  their  own.  Upon  a  Procrustean 
bed  of  their  own  dimensions  these  liberalized  latter- 
day  contortionists  place  all  who  fall  into  their  hands, 
cutting  oft'  the  Ihnbs  that  are  too  long  for  it,  and 
stretching  those  that  are  too  short. 

Of  approximate  stamp  is  undue  bias  in  favor  of 
one's  own  people  or  country.  This  failing,  still  re- 
garded in  many  quarters  as  a  virtue,  is  worse  in  some 
respects  than  the  bigotry  arising  from  religious  belief, 
and  denotes  narrowness  of  mind. 

"  One  historian  after  another  sets  himself  to  writo 
the  panegyric  of  his  favorite  period,"  says  Goldwiii 
Smith,  "and  each  panegyric  is  an  apology  or  a  false- 
hood." Tlie  liomily  of  glowing  patriot  or  zealous 
sectarian  is  not  liistory  but  verbiage.  Let  all  that  U 
wortliy  of  censure  in  state,  church,  and  society  be  con- 
demned :  let  all  that  is  worthy  of  praise  be  extolled  ; 
but  let  not  censure  and  praise  be  meted  out  according 
to  the  maxims  of  country  or  creed.  Patriotism  is  but 
a  form  of  eo-otism,  which  must  be  circumscribed  if  not 
laid  entirely  aside.  Let  us  meeteverv  a<:!:e  and  nation 
upon  the  broad  platform  of  humanity,  measuring  r.) 
man's  conscience  by  our  own  but  by  the  conscience  (if 
nature,  and  condemning  cruelty  and  injustice  wherev<  r 
we  find  it,  whether  in  Hel)rew,  Turk,  or  Christian, 
Spaniard  or  Anglo-Saxon.  It  is  no  less  unwise  than  dis- 
honest to  wage  vituperative  warfare  against  any  natioi 
or  sect  as  such.  Would  he  keep  pellucid  the  streai.t 
of  thought,  with  his  piety  and  patriotism  the  writer  «t 
history  will  have  little  to  do.  "  Nothing  endures  ex- 
cept that  which  is  necessary,  and  history  occupies  it- 
self onlv  with  that  which  endures,"  observes  M.Cousin. 


LM PEDIMENTS  AND  QUALIFICATIONS. 


101 


orse  111  somo 


Otlicr  obstacles  interpose  in  forms  infinite  to  warp 
(.ur  ntiiceptions  of  incidents  and  character.  There  is 
I  ho  intellectual  bias,  the  impossibility  of  reproducing 
ill  our  own  minds  the  thoughts  and  abstractions  of 
(.tlurs;  the  emotional  bias,  in  which  category  ma\'  be 
\)\iur(\  the  whole  range  of  passion,  family  and  class, 
lovts  ami  hates,  with  their  numberless  sj'mpathies 
and  iintii)athies;  the  educational  bias,  and  many 
otJicrs. 

Impartiality  and  clearness  must  not  be  confounded 
(ir  (ihscured,  even  by  a  strcjug  detestation  of  the  hate- 
ful  (iiaii  absorbing  admii'ation  for  the  excellent.  The 
cli'cct.s  and  lessons  of  both  have  to  be  duly  cmpliasized, 
V(  t  the  writer  must  rise  above  the  excitement  which 
he  liiniselt"  seeks  to  rouse  by  incident  or  style.  Like 
tlic  general,  he  must  inspire  enthusiasm  without  al- 
lowing himself  to  be  carried  away  by  it.  While  aj)- 
|iareiitly  yielding  to  the  emotions  awakened  by  varying 
occurrences,  he  must  over  be  on  his  guard  to  restrain 
those  sympathies  within  bounds,  or  he  becomes  un- 
trustworthy. 

There  are  many  yet  remaining  among  the  guilds 
and  schools  who  prefer  graceful  fiction  to  ungainly 
i'mt.  and  the  older  and  more  learned  and  more  refined 
the  school,  the  closer  they  hug  their  superstitions  and 
deny  conllicting  truths.  They  have  been  taught,  and 
sagely  ;  the  world's  storehouse  of  knowledge  has  been 
opened  to  them,  and  they  have  been  able  to  secure 
mole  of  it  to  themselves  than  usually  falls  to  the  lot 
of  man;  perchance  they  receive  theh"  daily  food  by 
liolding  to  certain  doctrines;  at  all  events,  they  seem 
too  ready  to  welcome  any  sham  which  will  bolster  up 
their  learning,  as  against  any  reality  whii-h  will  over- 
throw it.  To  pander  to  the  passions  or  prejudices  of 
a  class,  to  romance  for  the  pleasure  of  idle  brains,  or 
draw  thrilling  pictures  for  the  amusement  of  dull 
intellects,  whatever  else  it  may  be,  is  not  to  write 
history. 

Xo  less  Indispensable  than  freedom  from  such  de- 


102 


HISTORY  WRITING. 


basing  shackles  is  fearlessness  in  the  portrayal  of  con- 
temporaneous events. 

The  impartial  judge  should  be  a  satisfied  man — 
satisfied  with  place  and  possessions,  and  as  free  from 
vanity  as  from  ambition.  He  should  have  nothing  to 
gain  by  the  expression  of  any  oi)inion  or  in  advocating- 
any  principle,  and  if  h)ss  attends  such  expression,  ht; 
should  be  ready  to  sustain  it.  There  may  not  b(> 
many  historians  who,  like  Paulus  Jovius,  would  write 
openly  as  they  were  bribed,  who  would  assign  illus- 
trious acts  or  noble  pedigree  to  those  who  paid  for 
tliem,  and  who  would  blacken  and  vilify  the  name  (  f 
him  who  refused  to  buy  fame;  yet  tb.ere  are  cnougli 
over  whom  other  motives  and  influences  hold  sway 
suflicient  to  make  their  record  far  from  just. 

Hume  picpied  himself  on  his  judicial  fairness,  and 
yet  would  alter  or  reverse  a  fact  to  suit  his  printer. 
Wliat  kind  of  a  historian  is  he  whose  charm  of  style, 
and  whose  exquisite  grace  and  vivacity  of  narration 
have  captivated  so  many  readers,  and  of  whom  T)v 
Qninccy  might  justly  say,  "Upo  .  any  question  of  fact, 
Hume's  authority  is  none  at  all?"  Macaulay  hated 
the  (Quakers,  hated  the  duke  of  Marlborough,  idolized 
William  III, — conditions  wholly  unfitting  him  to 
write  truthfully. 

When  Douglas  Jerrold  went  to  Paris,  and  amidst 
the  scenes  then  stirring  the  capital  attenq^ted  the  rolo 
of  special  correspondent  for  his  own  journal,  writing' 
from  strange  nooks,  as  George  Hodder  says,  ''with- 
out the  accustomed  inqilements  of  his  calling,  and  far 
removed  from  those  domestic  influences  which  lie 
often  confessed  quickened  his  inqmlses  and  chastenrd 
his  understanding,"  ho  felt  that  the  same  Avork  could 
have  been  done  better  at  home.  When  his  companion 
reminded  him  that  he  came  there  for  facts,  ho  angrily 
exclaimed,  "Danm  the  facts  I     I  don't  want  facts." 

History  is  a  magician's  bottle,  out  of  which  we  can 
pour  any  kind  of  wine  the  human  appetite  craves. 
Sophocles  pictured  humanity  a  ;  it  oujdit  t )  be;  Eurip- 


TEMPER  AND  BIAS. 


103 


rayal  of  con- 

sfied  man — 
as  free  from 
o  nothing  to 
n  advocatinu' 


repression, 


ho 


may  not  ho 
,  would  write 

assign  illus- 
vho  paid  for 

the  name  (  f 
3  are  enouiili 
>s  hold  sway 
list. 

fairness,  and 
t  his  printer, 
larm  of  stylo 

of  narration 
of  whom  Do 
cstiod  of  faet, 
Lcaulay  hated 

)UL'h,  idolized 

:ing   him    to 

s,  and  amidst 
pted  the  rolo 
irnal,  writiii;^' 


says, 


'witli 


lling,  and  far 
■es  which  ho 
nd  ehastenod 
e  work  coukl 
lis  companion 
ts,  ho  angrily 
ant  facts." 
vhieh  we  can 
letite  craves. 
L)  be;  Eurip- 


ides as  it  was.  Thucydides  wrote  down  democracy, 
Tacitus  iui])erialism.  Was  either  of  them  true  to  the 
intoivsts  of  the  opposite  side?  Would  they  not  have 
1)0011  aocounted  as  traitors  by  their  respective  parties 
had  tlu-y  been  wholly  impartial,  and  might  not  their 
mimes  and  works  have  soon  perished  in  consequence? 
^[aoaulav  looks  upon  tlie  ills  of  the  English  poor  two 
conturles  back;  Cobbettand  Hallani  dwell  more  upon 
thoir  ooinfoi'ts.  Kead  one,  and  you  hnagine  them  the 
most  mist'rable  of  mortals;  read  the  others,  and  you 
thiid;  how  nmch  happier  people  were  then  than  now. 
To  the  cliaracter  of  Philip  II  Prescott  ap[)lies  the 
words  bigoted,  perfidious,  suspicious,  cruel,  which  were 
enough  for  even  so  powerful  a  prince,  but  when  ]\Iot- 
li'V  adds  to  these  the  terms  pedant  and  idiot,  one  be- 
(^ius  to  wonder  how  such  a  driveller  was  able  to  manage 
his  estate  of  half  a  world  so  long  and  so  well. 

The  writer  of  historv  need  not  be  a  genius — indeed, 
(fcnius  is  ordinarily  too  erratic  for  faithful  plodcUng — 
hut  lie  must  be  a  fair  man,  a  man  of  sound  sense,  good 
judgment,  and  catholicity  of  opinion;  of  broad  ex- 
jiorionoe  and  a  wide  range  of  knowledge.  While 
uuai'ding  agahist  a  too  free  indulgence  of  that  love  of 
personalities  which,  latent  in  simple  minds,  begins  in 
oossip  and  boyish  stories,  and  culminates  in  biography 
and  lustoiy,  he  will  never  hold  himself  above  anything 
whi(  h  affects  human  nature,  however  humlde,  nor  be- 
low those  abstract  generalities  which  are  a  later  pro- 
duet,  the  result  of  study  and  experience.  He  should 
be  possessed  of  the  faculty  of  abstraction  to  the  de- 
gree of  double  sense  and  opposito  natures,  so  that  lie 
may  clearly  see  the  two  sides  there  are  to  every  prop- 
osition and  every  human  character,  and  thus  be  ena- 
bled to  reconcile  the  antagonisms  of  mindand  emotions. 
A  practical  imagination,  calm  energy,  and  cautious 
speculation,  should  underlie  all  his  efforts.  It  is  the 
historian's  duty  to  fill  vacant  spaces  with  )»rol)ablo 
events,  or  as  Porter  says  :  **T]ie  ])o\ver  when  trained 
and    used    in    the    search   after   historic    truth    be- 


11 


IM 


HISTORY  WllITIXa 


comes  wliat  is  called  the  historic  imagination,  which 
by  long  practice  becomes  so  discriminating  and  so 
trustworthy  as  to  be  termed  the  historic  sense." 

All  this  is  very  well  in  mihlhus.  It  is  easy  enough 
to  point  out  defects  and  tell  how  history  should  be 
written,  easier  far  than  to  find  the  model  historian. 
Wholly  to  abstract  thought  from  falsifying  influences, 
to  divorce  mhid  from  its  superstitions,  its  hollow  max- 
ims, and  its  moral  phantasms,  is  not  possible.  Before 
attempting  it  let  Ithuriel  and  Zeplion  search  for  Satan 
in  paradise,  and  let  Lucifer  cleanse  his  abode  of  every 
worthy  quality.  Between  o]jinion  and  experience, 
cognition  and  emotion,  there  is  perpetual  antagonism. 
How  little  we  know  of  nature,  of  ourselves,  of  our 
neighbor!  How  little  of  impartial  thought  there  is 
even  among  those  who  most  earnestly  seek  it  I 

The  infant  beholds  the  moon  within  its  grasp,  and 
Iciarns  but  gradually  how  unreliable  are  his  perceptions 
in  this  and  other  directions  without  the  correcting 
medium  of  experience.  The  artist  has  recourse  to 
delusive  metliods  to  convey  to  the  observer  a  truer 
idea  of  his  work,  to  correct  the  aberrations  of  the  eye 
and  mind.  The  sculptor  curves  tlie  column  to  secure 
an  apparent  straightness  of  outlines ;  the  painter 
shades  the  backgr(»und  to  convey  aerial  [perspective  or 
project  his  figures;  the  nmsician  uses  now  slow,  now 
fast  vibrations  to  soothe  or  animate  his  listeners. 
Without  skilful  exaggeration  the  poem,  heroic  or 
idyllic,  would  fail  in  its  purpose.  Likewise  in  history, 
although  in  minor  degree,  writers  find  it  often  neces- 
sary to  emphasize,  in  more  or  less  forcible  manner, 
certain  incidents  in  order  to  raise  tliem  to  due  promi- 
nence above  the  general  level,  to  ]>roduce  a  proper 
contrast.  Coloring  of  style  is  permissible  to  relieve 
monotony,  or  to  secure  an  appreciation  of  a  trait  or 
happening  commensurate  with  its  importance;  all, 
however,  within  the  bounds  requisite  alone  for  strength- 
ening truth,  while  keeping  the  reins  of  thought  ever 


PARTISANSlIir   AND    SKCTAPJANISM. 


105 


t'lon,  which 
ing  and  so 
3iise." 

asy  enough 
should  be 
1  historian. 
r  influences, 
lollow  niax- 
le.     Before 
•h  for  Satan 
xle  of  every 
experience, 
antagonism. 
Ives,  of  our 
vht  there  is 
'kitl 

i  grasp,  and 
5  perceptions 
3  correcting 
recourse  to 
rver  a  truer 
of  the  eye 
in  to  secure 
the    painter 
rspective  or 
sk)W,  now 
Usteners. 
heroic    or 
e  in  history, 
ften  ncces- 
)le  manner, 
due  promi- 
a  proper 
to  reheve 
a  trait  or 
iance ;    all, 
[irstrength- 
liought  ever 


e 


uiuhr  control.  A  battle  could  not  be  cflectually  dc- 
iiictcd  in  the  monotone-applicable  to  the  enumeration 
ont!ji!^lative  enactments,  nor  a  humorous  occu:rence 
ill  the  strain  recjuired  for  tragedy. 

Ill  this  age  of  rapid  transition  from  one  state  of 
tliouglit  to  another,  some  might  v  )nsider  it  almost  a 
iiiccsriity  for  the  writer  of  history  at  the  outset  to  dc- 
cl.iio  liis  method  of  uivestigation  hi  the  study  of  social 
l»hriiomciia,whether  he  inclines  to  the  sideof  thesuper- 
iiatuial  interference  theory,  to  the  influence  of  theindi- 
vi(Ki;il  willsofgreatmeninsocialafl^airs,orto  the  theory 
of  evolution  and  the  unchangeable  operation  of  primor- 
(liiil  law.  The  political  speakt-r,  or  pulpit  orator — and 
tc»  thrsc  I  might  add  nine-tenths  of  the  book-writers — 
^vl:()  docs  not  appear  before  the  public  as  a  partisan 
or  a  stctiirian  of  some  sort,  and  hence  prepared  to 
suppress  half  the  truth  hi  su})port  of  his  o[)iiiion,  is' 
r('L;ai(li'cl  as  little  better  than  beside  himself  Better 
thau  plain  truth  we  h)ve  to  listen  to  that  which  ploascs 
tlio  ear  and  absorbs  the  fancy,  and  he  who  sjjcaks  to 
us  thus  s[)eaks  truth;  him  we  will  feed,  and  clothe. 
jiud  praise,  for  he  it  is  who  holds  over  us  the  grateful 
sIkkIos  of  i'jfuorance.  On  the  other  hand  those  who 
lovo  light  more  than  self-opinionated  blindness  can, 
p'rlia[)s,  listen  or  read  as  profitably,  if  the}'  know  at 
ouco  the  color  and  calibre  of  the  speaker's  or  writer's 
iiiiiid.  "Broader  and  deeper  must  we  wiite  our  an- 
nals," says  Emerson,  "  from  an  ethical  reformation, 
from  an  iiifluKof  the  ever  new,  ever  sanitive  conscience, 
if  Avo  would  trulier  ex[)ress  our  central  {>nd  wide- 
ivlatid  nature,  instead  of  tliisold  chronoloov  of  selfish- 
lu'ss  and  pride  to  which  wo  have  too  long  lent 
our  eyes." 

Yet  tlie  knowledge  of  the  end  from  the  beginning 
tends  to  o])erate  against  exact  narration  or  views. 
Ibiw  diilerent  to  the  eye  of  an  ob.scrvor  app(  ar  the 
(■ariiag(>  and  conduct  of  one  in  court  if  he  be  told  the 
individual  is  culprit  or  judge  1     If  to  a  stranger  the 


I! 
ill!  II 


106 


HISTORY  WRITING.        — 


I 


m 


.1 


n 


ii  Is 

i 
t 


most  innocent  raan  that  walks  the  street  was  pointed 
out  as  a  iliief  and  an  assassin,  villainy  would  seem  to 
lux'k  about  his  heels  and  display  itself  in  every  feature. 
Then  to(),  it  is  one  thinsjf  to  write  fanaticisni  for  fan- 
atics  or  weave  fustian  for  demaj^ogues,  and  quite  an- 
other to  write  f(jr  those  with  whom  a  mere  assertion, 
however  strongly  made,  will  not  take  the  place  of 
well-di'jrested  facts  and  logical  conclusions. 

History  reptvats  itself,  we  are  told.  Yet  like  most 
nuixinis  tliis  is  too  frecjucntly  misapi)lied.  Man's 
progress — and  history  is  but  the  record  of  this  pro- 
gress— though  infmitcly  variable  in  its  phenomena, 
and  like  physical  nature  imiuutal)lc  in  its  laws,  never, 
strictly  speakhig,  repeats  itself.  Human  natui  i,  like 
])hysical  nature,  and  the  nature  of  all  created  tliiiigs,  is 
unchangeable.  Like  conditions  produce  like  results  ; 
and  in  as  far  as  the  conditions  of  to-day  are  similar  to 
the  conditions  of  a  hundred  or  a  thousand  years  ago, 
in  so  far,  and  no  farther,  does  history  repeat  itself. 
There  is  more  trutli  in  tlie  iden  that  recent  events 
present  themst>lves  at  too  short  range  to  be  seen  as 
an  entirety,  and  hence  are  unfit  for  historical  record. 
Time  must  be  allowed  for  insignificant  detail,  and  in- 
terests purely  local  and  personal,  to  subside,  and  all 
parts  of  the  occurrence  to  assume  proper  proportions. 
The  meniber  of  a  society,  dail}'-  commingling  with  his 
fellows,  is  not  only  ijiso  facto  incapacitated  forjudging 
impartially  that  society,  but  he  cannot  riglitly  esti- 
mate contemporaneous  neighboring  societies.  His 
sympathies  and  antipathies  warp  his  judgment,  and 
if  he  attempts  to  bend  it  straight,  likely  enough  he 
crooks  it  in  the  opposite  direction.  Phrynichus,  the 
dramatist,  was  fined  for  l)reaking  the  rule  of  his  art, 
and  presenting  the  fall  of  Miletus  and  the  attendant 
woes  so  soon  after  the  occurrence  as  to  excite  tiie 
sympathy  of  the  audience  to  a  painful  degree.  Great 
actions  should  be  presented  in  their  simplicity,  not 
in  their  complexity,  and  this  can  be  done  only  at  some 
distance,  in  time,  from  the  date  of  their  occurrence. 


PAST    AND  FUTURE. 


107 


^as  poiutod 
ikl  see  in  to 
my  feature. 
,811)  for  fau- 
id  quito  aii- 
•e  assertion, 
iic  place  of 

t  like  most 
ied.     Man's 
of  this  pro- 
phenomena, 
laws,  never, 
natuv3,  like 
,cd  things,  is 
like  results ; 
re  similar  to 
id  years  ago, 
repeat  itself, 
ecent  events 
o  be  seen  as 
)ric'al  record, 
ctail,  and  in- 
)side,  and  all 
proportions, 
ling  with  his 
[forjudging 
rightly  esti- 
Mcties.     His 
dgment,  and 
enough  he 
ynichus,  the 
G  of  his  art, 
attendant 
:)  excite  the 
Tee.     Great 
iiplicity,  not 
only  at  sonn; 
occurrence. 


As  Taine  truly  says:  "La  veritable  histoiro 
sVluve  ;i sentiment  quand  I'liistorien  commence a(k'm6- 
kr,  a  travers  la  distance  des  tem|)s,  I'liomme  vivant, 
agissant,  donnd  de  passions,  nmni  d'habitudes,  avec  sa 
voix  et  sa  physionomie,  avec  ses  gestes  et  ses  habits, 
distinct  et  complet  connne  celui  que  tout  a  I'heurc 
IK  HIS  avons  (juitte  dans  la  rue." 

At  the  same  time  there  may  be  occasions  when  it 
is  impracticable  for  a  writer  to  cimfine  himself  to  the 
remote  in  history,  when  important  incidents  and 
events  coming  to  his  knowledge  woukl  be  lost  if  left  un- 
ivco'/ded,  or  it  may  be  deemed  best  sometimes  to  bring 
ii  narrative  down  to  a  modern  date  rather  than  leave 
the  work  unfinished.  Kernels  of  permanent  liistory 
can  he  selected  from  current  events. 

Practical  life  and  our  views  of  the  after-life,  are 
hased  upon  life  and  opinion  as  entertained  in  the  [)ast. 
Amonu"  the  three  sources  for  our  knowledsjce  of  the 
past,  personal  observation,  the  testimony  of  eye- 
witnesses, and  circumstantial  evklencc,  the  former 
art!  naturally  preferable.  Yet  circumstantial  evi- 
dence may  in  some  instances  be  stronger  than  tes- 
timonial evidence.  For  exanqile,  no  evidence  is  more 
true  tlian  that  written  by  reptiles  on  the  bottom  of 
the  sea,  by  insects  in  the  rocks,  or  by  plants  and  ani- 
mals in  the  sand.  Again,  a  bullet  in  the  brain  with 
a  liolc  in  the  skull  corresponding  to  that  whicli  a  pis- 
tol-hall usually  makes,  is  better  proof  that  tlie  man 
was  shot,  than  would  be  the  assertion  of  a  pretended 
I  ye-witness  open  to  the  charge  of  faulty  vision. 

Although  there  are  phenomena  in  the  science  of 
human  nature  common  to  all,  yet  the  condition  and 
character  of  every  n)an  differ  from  those  of  every 
other  man.  Then,  to  the  same  minds  things  apjjcar 
difl'erent  at  different  times.  Vision  is  affected  by  time 
and  jilace.  The  world  seems  very  large  to  the  uiiso- 
l^liisticatcd.  To  the  voun«r  man  returninijf  to  his  cjiild- 
hood  home  after  an  absence  of  vcars,  a  ijeneral  shrinkage 


I'1' 


108 


IIISTOUY  WRITIXa. 


appears  to  have  taken  ])lac'o;  sizes  have  dwindled  and 
distances  sliortencd.  Many  phases  of  liunian  eliarac- 
ter  tlicro  arc  wliieh,  like  certain  pliysical  elements,  act 
paradoxically  when  brought  in  contact.  There  arc 
two  clear  licjuids  which  when  mixed  become  opaque 
mud;  there  are  two  cold  li(|uids  which  when  brouoht 
to'jfetlier  become  boiling  hot.  Some  of  the  most  dia- 
bolieal  acts  ever  witnessed  have  been  c<Miimitted  by 
bn^thren  of  the  saujc  faith  warring  on  each  other. 

What  we  now  call  infamous  dee<ls  may  have  been 
done  by  those  who  in  their  day  were  regarded  as  good 
men,  and  many  good  deeds  have  been  done  by  thosi; 
whose  name  we  may  justly  consign  to  infamy;  for  by 
their  teachings  no  less  than  bv  their  fruits  we  mav 
know  them.  We  nmst  not  forget  what  the  world 
owes  to  its  bad  men,  nor  how  much  civilization  is  in- 
debted to  things  which  are  now  called  evil.  In  judg- 
ing by  the  light  of  conscience,  it  makes  avast  difference 
whose  conscieuec  is  to  be  the  guide,  and  at  what  })lace 
and  period  in  the  annals  of  the  race  it  was  exercised. 
Conscience  is  like  a  piece  of  wrought  steel,  its  value 
depending  upon  the  quality.  Well  tem[)ered  with 
reason,  it  performs  its  functions  fairly.  It  has  often 
guided  mankind  into  the  most  shameful  atrocities,  to 
Christian  butcheries,  the  very  irony  of  Christian  love. 
The  Spanish  inquisitors  who  burned  heretics  for 
Christ's  sake  were  most  conscientious  and  respectable 
men.  "There  is  no  beast  more  savage  than  man, 
when  he  is  possessed  of  power  equal  to  his  passion," 
says  Plutarch.  While  the  eftect  of  a  bad  act  is  in  no 
wise  lessened  by  a  praiseworthy  motive,  and  while 
such  an  act  merits  a  priori  as  severe  condenmation  as 
if  connnitted  from  a  bnd  motive,  yet  judgment  upon 
the  character  of  the  actors  in  the  two  cases  should  be 
rendered  very  differently  if  we  would  not  fall  into  the 
error  of  weighing  the  virtue  of  one  against  the  vice  of 
another,  the  cruelty  of  one  against  the  humaneness 

rainst   treacherv,    rather   than 


oyalty 
against  a  loftier  standard. 


-ry, 


OPINIONS  ANT)  STANDARDS. 


100 


Staiiflard.^  (lifter.  What  is  ri«jrlifc  or  cxpetllont  in 
one  ajii!  or  nation  nmy  not  be  right  and  exju'diont  in 
nnotlur  age  antl  nation.  Opinion  changes;  mind 
ivolvos,  and  thought  becomes  nmterial,  and  we  find 
the  most  eminent  of  geologists,  Sir  Charles  iiyell, 
.•liter  holding  for  forty  years  to  the  doctrine  of  spec  ir. I 
creation,  making  it  the  corner-stone  of  his  intelleetuid 
structure  through  nine  editions  of  his  work,  wholly 
abandoning  tlie  theory  in  the  tenth. 

Mediieval  legends  were  born  of  a  time  when  there 
was  Httle  inclination  to  question  their  authenticity, 
and  little  (»pportunity  to  distinguish  between  the  true 
ami  the  false.  Modern  canons  of  morality  are  not 
a|»|tlic;'ble  to  the  measurement  of  medi;eval  character. 
Likewise  care  should  be  taken  to  distinguish  between 
the  various  standards  employed  by  diH'erent  persons. 
Thus,  one  would  regard  a  poet  as  possessing  the  high- 
I'st  typo  of  intellect,  another  a  philosopher,  another  a 
reformer.  One  would  name  Sliakespeare,  one  New- 
ton, one  Lutlier,  as  the  greatest  of  men.  To  the 
miser,  wlio  can  be  more  exalted  in  every  virtue  tlj.  n 
a  liothschild;  to  a  disciple  of  the  manly  art,  who  is 
there  more  worthy  of  imitation  than  the  cham])ion 
])riz"-fighter?  When  in  the  region  of  siiadows,  Men- 
i[>|ius  asked  Mercury  to  show  him  the  notable  worthies 
oftliepast  gone  thither.  "Yonder  on  your  right," 
he  said,  "are  Hyacinthus,  and  Narcissus,  Nireus, 
Achilles,  Tyro,  Helen,  and  Leda."  "I  see  nought 
hut  bones  and  bare  skulls,"  replied  ^Tenippus,  "all 
\  ory  alike."  "  Yet  all  the  poets  have  gone  into  rap- 
tures al)out  those  very  bones  which  you  seem  to  look 
upon  witli  such  contempt."  Thus  it  is  in  history. 
Those  wo  praise  or  censure  are  dust,  as  we  soon  shall 
he.  Let  us  speak  of  them  justly,  as  we  shall  wish 
others  to  speak  of  us. 

Social  phenomena,  the  last  to  be  brought  under  the 
surveillance  of  science,  are  the  most  difficult  of  all  in- 
vestigations. Human  character  always  ap[)ears  before 
us  in  evcr-chantj-inir  colors.     There  is  no  such  thing 


no 


HISTORY  WRITlNfJ. 


!^ 


M 


as  human  naturo  aj>art  from  pliysiral  nature.  As  in 
plants,  so  till'  ovulo  of  liuiiuin  nature,  clothed  in  its 
own  intt'iufunicnts  and  (inclosed  in  its  pericai'p,  lies  in 
enihryo  enil)e<lded  in  thoallmnien  that  feeds  it,  hurst- 
in<^  wliich  it  finds  itself  (^ver  subject  to  the  jjfovernance 
of  iK'W  surround  in  jijs.  The  Diilirn  of  proclivities  and 
passions  is  the  air  breathed,  the  earth  trodden  on,  and 
the  sky  gazed  into.  Thus  it  is  that  ^reat  artists 
and  great  autliors  are  always  keenly  alive  to  the  in- 
flueneo  of  (jxternal  nature  over  mind  and  emotion.  So 
multitudinous,  and  intricate,  and  interdependent  are 
the  laws  which  govern  mental  phenomena,  so  diversi- 
fied arc  the  agencies  which  det(!rminc  human  charac- 
ter, that  only  an  ap|)roximate  knowh'dge  of  mankind 
is  possible.  Isolated  facts,  in  this  connection,  are  of 
little  value;  in  secjuent  circumstances,  converging 
from  inmimerahle  sources,  and  reaching  back  to  the 
beginning  of  time,  and  in  the  innumerable  hifluences 
which  lise  within,  and  breathe  upon,  and  i)lay  about 
tlic  individual — if  tliese  could  be  known,  might  be 
found  the  causations  of  character. 

Protagoras  said,  "  Man  is  the  measure  of  all  things." 
But  how  shall  we  measure  man?  Our  conceptions  of 
our  mighbor  are  of  necessity  automorphic.  We  judge 
others  by  our.selves ;  how  else  shall  we  judge  them? 
True,  no  two  minds  or  characters  are  alike;  hence, 
automor]»hic  conceptions,  and,  inductively,  all  concep- 
tions of  human  character  are  more  or  less  erroneous. 
We  may  compare  this  arm  or  intellect  with  that  arm 
or  intellect,  measure  one  man  by  another  man,  one 
age  or  nation  by  another  age  or  nation,  bu  abstract 
measurements  are  less  easilv  made.  Consi  er  alone 
how  inseparable  from  the  mind  of  the  invests  itor  are 
inherent  distortions  and  sectional  prejudice  whicli 
obstruct  or  render  notional  even  attempts  at  oncrete 
perceptions.  In  the  question.  What  is  mora  ty?  we 
are  unable  to  clearly  distinguish  innate  principles 
from  those  which  spring  from  association. 

With  Herr  Teufelsdrockh  one  must  look  through 


AUsKNt'K  OF  SRLF.K\0W1.KIm;K, 


111 


ilio  coat  and  lliiouuli  tlio  skin  it  covers  if  one  vould 
know  tlio  man.  Wlicn*  fctTni*;  is  to  bo  propitiated, 
fi  \v  may  boast  tlic  subtlt'ty  ot'  tlie  8cr[K'nt,  t'nr  t'l  v 
(,iiiv  tilt'  heart  so  n(>ar  tlir  liead.  Tie  wiio  attt  nij>ts 
ti)  iM»rti!iy  eliaraeter  slioiild  jruard  as  mucli  aj^ainst 
the  liailucinations  <tf  liis  own  mind,  tlio  delusions  of 
!,is  own  vision,  as  aij^ainst  falsity  in  faet,  form,  or  col- 
oriii;.;.  From  a  balloon,  the  earth's  surfarn  next  the 
ohscrver  apiu'ars  not  convex  but  concave.  Inferences 
fioiii  th.c  clearest  data  may  l)o  illogical  and  untrue. 
])tinocritus  lauy;hed  at  everythin;^ ;  Heraclitus  wept 
at  every thinj::^.  To  one,  the  world  and  all  it  contained 
scciued  unreal  and  ridiculous,  objects  of  mirth  to  a 
■\viso  man,  while  to  the  other  there  was  nothing  but 
wliat  called  for  tears.  ^lan,  he  cries,  is  onlv  to  be 
pitied;  the  world  is  one  of  wickedness,  fit  only  for 
destruction.  Evil  reigns;  [Measure  is  not  ))leasure; 
knowledgt'  is  ignorance;  life  is  but  a  winter's  day. 

Wore  it  possible  even  to  know  self;  to  dive  into 
tlie  di'[>ths  of  our  own  cctnsciousness,  and  drawing 
aside  the  veil,  scan  the  strange  connlomeration  of  op- 
losing  forces,  and  mark  off  the  ego  and  the  non-ego; 
cniild  \\v  stop  witliin  the  shrine,  and  examiiie  the  ma- 
cliiiieiy  of  our  wondrous  life,  note  the  ticking  of  (»bso- 
li  te  formulas  and  the  unfolding  of  divine  intuitions; 
(ituld  we  |)lace  free-will  and  necessity  under  analysis, 
failiom  the  duality  of  our  nature,  decompose  the  falsity 
of  seeming  reality  and  the  reality  of  falsity,  and  ascer- 
tniii  whence  the  ascendency  of  these  vagaries  and  the 
suhoi'diiiation  of  those— we  might  then  understand 
wliat  is  due  to  intrinsic  self  and  what  to  intractable 
ciicunistanccs.  Could  we  plav  the  critic  after  this 
tils] nor,,  we  might  tell  why  feeling  has  so  much  niore 
jwiWiT  over  us  than  reason  ;  wln^  we  feed  our  passions 
onlv  to  give  them  strenjjjth  to  devour  us;  whv.  with 
■srorcely  a  consciousness  of  our  inconsistency,  we  per- 
sist in  deceiving  oursalvcs  and  accepting  as  true  what 
wc  know  to  be  false ;  why  we  daily  tempt  death, 
struggling  for  we  know  not  what,  yet  intensify  hope 


112 


HISTORY  WRITING. 


to  prolong  life;  why  we  comniit  a  wrong  in  order  to 
accH)ni[)lisli  a  riglit;  why  we  conceal  our  nobler  [)art, 
turn  our  baser  (lualitics  like  jjorcupine  quills  to  the 
world,  tlien  roll  ourselves  in  the  dust  to  Iiide  them. 
When  once  we  know  all  this,  we  have  then  but  to 
turn  our  eyes  within  and  thei-e  beh;  Id,  as  in  a  mirror, 
that  alter  coo,  our  neiijflibor. 

JStonuis  l)lanied  Jupiter  because  in  cre.atinsjf  man  he 
put  no  window  in  his  breast  tlirou^li  which  the  h(>art 
might  be  seen.  M(Mnus  was  a  sleepy  god,  and  wc 
mortals  are  likewise!  troubled  witli  a  lack  of  insight 
into  human  cliaracter.  No  doubt  Ju[)iter  could  have 
done  better.  Man  is  far  from  a  perfect  creation. 
]^ut  as  the  gods  saw  fit  to  do  no  more  for  us,  may  we 
not  now  do  somcstliing  for  oursi']\t>s  ;'  Were  not  tlu^ 
eyes  of  jMonnis  somewliat  at  fault  as  well  as  the  fingeis 
of  .)u])iter?  If  wc  lay  aside  the  narrowing  prejudices 
of  birth  and  education,  under  the  influences  of  which 
it  is  impossible  to  balance  nicely  thi^  actions  of  men, 
may  we  not  discover  here  and  there  o[)enii!gs  into  the 
soul  ? 


<#iidmisi'j 


^t^^ 


CHAPTER  VI. 


CUITICISM. 
Icli  liin  oin  Fcind  vou  Explieationeii;  man  betriigt  sich  oder  den  Andcm, 

llild    liH'Ist  liculc. 

— Goethe. 

11  ii'ii|i[);irticnt  qu'aux  granda  hnmmcs  d'avoir  de  grand;*  drfaxits. 

• — Ijd  liochcj'imatuUl. 

Liw  lidiiilircs  fainnsoa  por  sus  iiigoiiios,  los  grandi's  po-'las,  lo-i  ilustres 
liistoriailorcii  siciiiprt',  o  las  mas  vczcs,  son  I'liibidiados  do  acjiullos  (uio 
ticiifu  [Mir  jiusto,  y  ]i(ir  partii'idar  oiilrt'tcuiiiiiciito,  juzgar  Ids  cscntos 
:ii'Cuos,  MU  aver  ilado  alguuos  pioprios  ^  la  luz  del  luuniui. 

— (VrraiUes. 


J~*i;()T.\(iOHAS  beo'liis  liis  treatise  On  the  CmkIs,  in 
tlicsc  words:  "  Rc"S[)e('tin<;'  tlio  gods,  lam  unal)li>  to 
kii^iw  whctlier  tluy  exist  or  do  not  exist."  A  writer 
()\)r\\<.  ;i  cliapter  On  the  Snakes  in  Ireland,  by  saying, 
•'Tilt  re  are  no  snakes  in  Ireland."  We  can  hardly 
aiiirin  IJiat  there  is  no  sneli  thing  as  criticism,  hnt  if 
any  exist,  it  is  of  doubtful  inti'rpretation.  There  are 
tricks  ill  all  tivades,  but  there  are  few  trades  that  are 
.ill  tricks.  There  art;  some  honest  men  who  are  critics ; 
tlictc  is  evc>n  such  a  thing  as  fair  criticism.  1'hero 
iiiv  iiKiiiy  wJK)  try  to  be  just;  there  are  yet  mon^  who 
an- .imiable;  a  gnvit  many  in  this  world  are  uolitic; 
liuiidicds  of  thousands  are  obligetl  to  live. 

The  ollice  is  one  of  homu',  antl  honorablv  IIIKmI 
IS  (if  h(MicHt  to  the  connnunity.  ]iooks  are  the 
;.i,rc;it  civilizers  of  tlio  race,  the  store-houses  of  knowl- 
cilnc,  the  granaries  of  intellectual  food.  Thenfori!  to 
tlcsi'^iiatt!  in  all  candor  which  books  of  those  thai  are 
made  a)'e,  ind(vd,  |uiblic  pabulum,  and  which  are 
straw;  carefully  and  conscientiously  to  examine  and 
explain,  one  man  for  the  million,  the  publications 
\vh;di  are  conducive  or  detrimental,  in  whole  or  i.; 

Kmhayu  and  MiHi'KLLANV     b  (  nu  ) 


114 


CRITICISM. 


part,  to  learning  and  progress,  is  one  of  the  most  im- 
portant and  noblest  works  in  wliich  man  can  bo  en- 
gaged, while  to  prostitute  the  powers  requisite  for 
such  a  position  is  one  of  the  basest. 

So  with  regard  to  newspaper  strictures  on  men. 
Tlie  journalist  who  as  a  sacred  duty  strives  to  clean.so 
the  community  of  its  pollutions,  who  searches  out  and 
exposes  wickedness  in  high  and  low  places,  who  holds 
u^)  to  public  scorn  evil  purposes  and  practices,  derelic- 
tion of  duty  in  public  officials,  subversion  of  the  law, 
prostitution  of  politics,  injustice,  bribery,  iniquitous 
monopoly,  and  all  immorality,  employs  divine  func- 
tions for  the  highest  benefit  of  man.  On  the  other 
hand,  he  who,  through  fear  or  favor,  or  for  money,  or 
popularit}',  or  to  increase  the  circulation  of  his  journal, 
or  through  prejudice,  or  fanaticism,  or  jealousy,  turns 
from  the  path  of  rectitude,  and  vilifies  the  good  while 
allowing  the  bad  to  escape,  is  a  curse  to  the  commu- 
nity. And  worst  of  all,  most  vile  and  most  detestable, 
is  the  hypocrite  who  strikes  in  the  dark,  who,  while 
protending  to  pure  integrity,  sells  himself  and  l\is  iu- 
tluence  for  personal  benefit,  jianders  to  depraved  pul- 
lic  taste,  advocates  iniquitous  measures,  or  viliH' s 
from  personal  spite  good  men  whose  ways  are  hont  st 
and  whose  lives  have  been  devoted  to  praiseworthy 
efforts.  Such  a  man,  or  a  news[)aper  proprietor  wlio 
will  allow  such  creatures  to  crawl  about  him  and  in- 
sert slanders  in  his  journal,  is  a  villain  of  the  dee]u  st 
dye,  more  deserving  of  the  hangman's  rope  than  many 
who  suffer  thereat. 

More  than  ever  before,  during  these  days  of  extc  ii- 
sive  book-makinsjc,  the  scholar  innnersed  in  his  invc:'>- 
tigations,  the  teacher,  the  general  reader,  need  the 
()])inion  of  qualified  persons  on  the  respective  miiits 
of  books  as  they  appear,  need  the  conscientious  opinio:! 
of  discriminating  critics.  It  is  impossible  otherwiso 
for  a  specialist,  even,  to  keep  under  control  the  !^<' 
rapidly  multiplying  literature  relative  to  his  drj)ait- 
meiit.    Indeed,  opinions  and  controversies  have  beto'iie 


I' 


AUTHORS  AND  REVIEWERS. 


115 


le  most  im- 
i  can  be  en- 
requisite  for 

res  on  men. 
es  to  cleanse 
•dies  out  and 
;s,  who  holds 
tices,  derelic- 
1  of  the  law, 
y,  iniquitous 
divine  func- 
3n  the  other 
for  money,  or 
3f  his  journal, 
jalousy,  turns 
he  i^ood  while 
o  tiic  comnm- 
ostdetestahlc, 
pk.  who,  while 
3lf  and  his  in- 
cpraved  ]iu1i- 
3S,   or   viliti'S 
tvs  are  honest 
praiseworthy 
iroprietor  who 
t  him  and  in- 
if  the  deeitist 
ipc  than  many 

[days  of  extcn- 
in  his  uivcs- 
ler,  need  the 
kpective  mirits 
nitious  opinion 
jible  otherwise 
jontrol  the  so 
I  to  his  de]>art- 
)s  have  beeouie 


I 
I. 


^i 


so  numerous  that  we  slmll  soon  require  reviews  of  re- 
vli^wers;  for  on  the  works  of  some  autliors,  more  has 
hceii  written  than  by  the  authors  themselves. 

Many  have  essayed  criticism  ;  some  have  achieved 
it.  Aloliougli  critical  talent  is  ranked  a  little  lower 
than  ( I'cativo  talent,  on  tlie  j];Tound  tliat  in  free  creative 
p,)\ver  man  finds  exercise  for  his  liighcsjt  capabilities, 
yet  in  all  tlio  field  of  letters  nothing  is  more  difficult 
of  attaimnent  than  pure  criticism, — not  that  conven- 
tional article  so  freely  flaunted  in  our  faces  by  aspiring 
youths  or  censorious  old  men,  of  which  Destouches 
says,  ''  La  criti(]ue  est  aisee  et  I'art  est  difficile,"  but 
tlic  intelligent  ex[)ression  of  truthfid  opinion  resulting 
t'lom  unbiassed  inquiry.  With  comparative  ease, 
from  the  delicate  filament  of  his  inspiration  the  ])oet 
may  sj)in  stanzas,  but  omniscience,  justice,  goodness, 
aii(l  truth,  all  the  attriljutes  of  the  deity,  scarcely 
sutlieo  for  the  qualifications  of  the  perfect  critic. 

In  no  department  of  literature  is  there  more  skilled 
humbug  employed  than  in  criticism.  Writers  of 
every  other  class  sail  under  colors  which  enable  the 
reader  to  form  some  idea  of  their  craft,  and  whitlier 
it  is  dri  ving.  He  may  bo  knave  or  fanatic,  philo.sopher 
or  fool,  who  deals  in  history  or  romance,  science  or 
nligiou ;  lie  may  be  conscientious  and  exact,  or  men- 
dacious, ignorant,  and  superstitious;  but  whatever  he 
is,  the  intelligent  reader  can  approximately  place  him, 
and  attach  a  tolcral)ly  correct  value  to  his  work.  But 
the  critic  finds  himself  hi  a  peculiar  position.  He 
must  be  wiser  than  all  men,  abler  than  all,  and  of 
more  experience  than  any;  for  if  he  is  not,  then  is  he 
no  critic. 

The  ftiult  is  not  his;  he  is  generally  a  very  good 
follow  ;  but  too  often  he  is  placed  at  the  treadle  of  the 
inaehine  and  instructed  to  do  certain  work  in  a  certain 
way,  and  he  must  obey.  Fifty  thousand  reviewers  in 
I'.uropo  and  America  are  employed  to  tell  what  five 
tiiousmid  authors  have  done  or  are  doino;,  nominally 
to  lead,  analyze,  prove,  and    truthfully  value   their 


116 


CRITICISM. 


I 


work,  really  to  clis[)lay  learning  and  acumen  in 
the  service  of  their  respective  journals.  It  is  a  diffi- 
cult jwsition,  and  one  which  should  be  better  paiJ, 
that  of  too  often  sacrificino-  fair-mindedness  and  in- 
tcgrity  for  policy  or  subordinating  them  to  prejudice, 
that  of  pretending  to  a  superiority  which  one  dees  not 
possess,  that  of  appearing  erudite  and  honest  wIk  n 
one  is  not.  This  among  the  fifty  thousand  is  the  rah, 
but  to  which  there  are  exceptions. 

That  most  of  the  books  written  never  should  havo 
had  being;  that  most  authors  are  men  who  disi)lav 
their  stupidity  througli  a  desire  for  notoriety,  or  other 
ambition,  and  should  be  put  down  ;  that  this  iloodiii.;' 
the  world  with  worthless  books  appealing  to  mankhid 
for  examination  and  judgment  is  a  nuisance,  and  a 
detriment  to  learning  and  refinement,  has  nothing  to 
do  with  it.  The  lack  of  honesty  and  sincerity  in 
praising  a  poor  book  is  as  culj)able  as  in  condemniii;; 
a  o'ood  ojie.  And  even  worse  than  this  is  so  magnifv- 
ing  the  non-essential  faults  of  a  really  good  book,  and 
omitting  to  mention  its  merits,  as  to  leave  the  impres- 
sion tluit  it  is  wliolly  bad,  which  is  a  trick  very  com- 
mon with  malevolent  and  unprincipled  critics.  It  i:^ 
the  utter  selling  of  himself  to  the  prejudice,  popularity, 
bigotry,  or  pecuniary  advantage  of  himself  or  another 
that  lies  at  the  bottom  of  all  false  criticism. 

This  literary  gauging  and  estimating  of  values  is  a 
matter  which  comes  lioine  to  every  writer,  whether 
his  labors  be  in  the  field  of  science,  and  in  the  study 
of  a  particular  branch,  or  in  the  all-embracing  province 
of  the  historian,  who  must  analyze  alike  individu;ds 
and  communities,  institutions  and  events,  authorities 
and  critics.  Says  the  talented  author  of  Causcrics  d" 
Lundi,  "Criticism  is  an  invention,  a  perpetual  creatieii. 
One  needs  to  renew,  to  repeat  continually  his  observa 
tion  and  stuily  of  men,  even  of  those  he  knows  be<t 
and  has  portrayed  ;  otherwise  he  runs  the  risk  of  par- 
tially forgetting  them,  ami  of  forming  imaginary  idt  as 
of  them  while  remembering    thein.     No  one  has  ii 


OPINIONS  OF  AUTHORS. 


117 


acumen  m 
It  is  a  tliffi- 
better  paiil, 
less  and  in- 
lo  prejudice, 
one  dees  net 
honest  when 
d  is  the  rul. , 

should  have 
who  dis}>lay 
iety,  or  other 
this  ftoodiii;;' 
IT  to  mankhid 
sance,  and  a 
IS  nothing  to 
sincerity  in 
1  condenniiii;;' 
is  so  magnify- 
)od  hook,  and 
e  the  iniprcs- 
ick  very  coni- 
critics.     It  i:? 
•e,  popularity, 
olf  or  another 
sui. 

of  values  is  a 
riter,  whether 
I  in  the  study 
icing  province 
:c  individuah 
s,  authorities 
t*  Causcri(\'i  (/" 
^tual  creatieii. 
his  obser\  a- 
knows  he^t 
le  risk  of  pnr- 
uiginary  id*  :is 
o  one  huH  a 


rij,lic  to  si..y,  *  I  understand  men.'     All  that  one  can 
liuly  say  i^,  'I  am  hi  a  fciir  way  to  understand  them.'" 

More  of  this  ideal  application  and  conscientiousness 
(111  tlie  part  of  the  ciiuc  is  due  to  both  authors  and 
1.  adei's,  that  one  may  not  be  injured  or  the  other 
laid'd.  Every  author,  except  of  course  the  few 
M'lisililc  ones,  believes  his  work  to  be,  if  not  the  best 
that  ever  was  written,  at  least  tlie  equal  of  any,  and 
til.  inferior  of  none.  He  has  no  intention  of  allowinij 
it  to  rest  m  tlie  dismal  sliadcs  of  ;jilence,  preferring 
jui  licity  at  all  hazards.  Sometimes  he  deserves  the 
coiideMinatiou  he  receives,  but  earnest  and  iionest 
ill' lit  sliould  never  be  met  by  ridicule,  even  though 
till' author  be  an  ignoramus.  His  honesty  might  be 
r(S|K'('ted  even  though  his  ability  were  not.  Headers 
(if  hooks,  meanwhile,  justly  ol)ject  to  an  imposition  on 
the  ])art  of  a  critic  which  prevents  his  ])erusal  of  a 
n(  1(1(1  hook,  or  causes  him  to  waste  his  time  over  a 
worthless  one. 

For  so  ancient  an  art,  criticism  should  be  farther 
ailvaiiced  than  it  is.  Little  progress  seems  to  have 
hit.ii  made  siiKC  that  day  when  cried  the  unhappy 
mail  of  Uz,  "  C),  tiiat  mine  adversary  had  written  a 
iiook!"  He  had  been  comforted  and  criticized  by  his 
friends  well-nigh  to  death,  and  he  asked  no  better 
opportunity  for  squaring  accounts  with  his  enemy. 
The  art  seems  to  have  been  founded  U})on  the  same 
iiioruHty,  which  was  to  half  love  your  friends  and 
wholly  liate  your  enemies;  to  half  recognize  and  flat- 
ter your  own  prejudices  as  spoken  by  another,  and 
wholly  to  condemn  all  antagonism  to  your  o}>inions 
wli(iv\  er  found.  Instead  of  simple  inquiry,  as  it  pio- 
Kssc'd  to  bo,  it  was  arbitraiy  inquisition,  totally  unlike 
Christ's  criticism  when  he  judged  men  and  women. 

Ill  the  world  of  letters  are  throe  several  classes  of 
oritics;  there  is  the  critic  by  histinct,  the  critic  by 
•  diKation,  and  the  critic  who  is  no  critic.  The  first 
ore  those  who  judge  by  inspiration,  like  Hazlitt  or 
Saiiite-JJcuve,  measuring  the  book  and  the  author  at 


1 


■  >  K' 


118 


CRITICISM. 


a  glance.  It  is  claimed  for  both  of  tlicsc  writers  that 
their  criticisms  are  divinations  rather  than  the  results 
of  investi<i;ation.  Beneath  their  all-searchinjj  crazf 
the  author  might  ask  with  Venus,  who,  on  beholding 
her  statue  at  Cnidos,  cried,  "  Where  saw  Praxiteles 
me  thus  nude  ? "  They  read  a  book  as  a  necromancer 
reads  his  victim.  Then  come  those  who,  being  intel- 
ligent and  well-read,  are  charged  with  learning  of  .so 
susceptible  a  nature  that  as  soon  as  a  few  facts  of  a 
writer  come  under  their  eye,  ignition  ensues,  and  lik(i 
a  flash  of  gunpowder  sufficient  of  their  knowledge;, 
colored  somewhat  by  the  contents  of  the  book  they 
review,  is  discharged  on  pa[)er  to  the  extent  of  so 
many  colunms  or  pages.  And  thirdly,  those  wlio 
gather  all  they  know  f)f  the  subject  treated  from  the 
book  they  review,  make  so  nuich  of  it  their  own  as 
they  require,  and  write  ad  libitum  at  so  much  the 
yard.  Any  one  of  these  niav  be  honest  or  dislionest 
in  his  intentions,  and  skiltul  or  bundling  in  tlie 
execution. 

In.  the  first  of  these  more  than  in  either  of  the 
others  we  can  excuse  extravagance  of  expression,  for 
the  keener  the  appreciation  the  more  intense  the  feel- 
ings for  or  against.  He  by  whom  the  beauty  and 
fragrance  of  the  flower  are  most  enjoyed  is  most  of  all 
sensitive  to  ugly  and  odorous  weeds.  Jlare  is  this 
natural  critic,  who  sees  as  with  second  sight  the  spirit 
of  tlie  book,  not  without  looking  into  it,  but  without 
the  careful  reading  of  it;  or  who,  like  Do  Quincey, 
instinctively  attacks  a  Junius,  throttles  a  windy 
Brougham,  and  dissects  a  pompous  Parr  or  hollow 
Sheridan,  and  with  Pascal  can  exclaim,  "  It  is  not  in 
Montaigne,  but  in  myself,  that  I  find  all  I  rcvad  in  his 
book."  But  let  those  devoid  of  this  fine  subtlety  be- 
ware how  they  don  the  lion's  skin,  lest  their  brny 
discover  r'  om.  The  loud  long  wail  of  a  Byron  or  a 
Poe  fase  .  ites  while  it  thrills,  because  there  is  human 
nature  in  it  So  witli  the  genius  of  criticism,  which 
means  more  than  metaphj'sical  hair-splitting. 


OMNISCIENCE  OF  CRITICS. 


119 


writers  that 
n  the  results 
Lrching  gazt; 
)n  bclioldiiig 
w  Praxiteles 
necromancer 
,  being  intel- 
arning  of  so 
'e\v  facts  of  a 
iucs,  and  liko 
[•  kno\vledg(i, 
le  book  tlu>y 
extent  of  so 
--,   those  who 
ted  from  the 
their  own  as 
so  much  the 
■j  or  dislumest 
"duiii    in   the 

either  of  the 
xpression,  for 
en  so  the  feel- 
beuuty  and 
is  most  of  all 
{•are  is  this 
ht  the  spirit 
but  without 
)o  Quincey, 
es    a    windy 
r  or  hollow 
"  It  is  not  ill 
I  road  in  his 
subtlety  he- 
it  their  bray 
a  Byron  or  a 
ere  is  human 
ticism,  whi(  h 
ting. 


Yet  of  all  classes  men  of  genius,  other  than  those 
critically  inspired,  make  the  worst  critics.  He  whose 
one  fiU'ulty  is  developed  at  the  expense  of  all  the 
other  faculties  is  in  no  fit  condition  to  judge  another's 
])io(luction,  still  less  his  own.  Contemporaneous  men 
of  letters,  particularly  if  occupying  the  same  field,  are 
always  envious  of  each  other ;  yet  they  emulate  while 
they  hate. 

Oiticism  is  an  art  sui  generis.  The  best  authors 
an;  seldom  the  best  critics;  just  as  artists  are  seldom 
the  l)est  judges  of  art,  or  lawyers  of  justice,  or  poli- 
ticians of  patriotism,  or  theologians  of  religion.  We  all 
lack  tliatmicrosco})ic  vision  which  clearly  discerns  prox- 
imate objects  lying  under  the  shadow  of  our  egoism, 

Xone  rail  so  loudly  against  critics  as  the  critics  them- 
selves. With  the  ancient  philosophers,  whom  learned 
men  have  so  long  worshiped,  criticism  wasasnceringand 
scoldinuc  of  school  ao'ainst  school,  and  of  individuals 
against  each  other.  W'-.rdsworth,  who  was  scarcely  less 
critic  than  poet,  bunglingly  enough  affirms  that  review- 
ers "while  they  prosecute  their  inglorious  employment 
cannot  be  supposed  to  be  inr.  .tateof  mind  very  favorable 
for  l)eing  affected  by  the  finer  influences  of  a  thing  so 
])r.o  as  genuine  poetry."  Wordsworth's  strictures 
iit  Wordsworth  as  well  as  another ;  for  at  this  very 
time  he  was  snarling  at  Byron  for  plagiarizing  from 
him. 

]  lero,  then,  lies  a  reason  for  the  absorption  of  the 
field  by  the  special  class  called  into  existence  by  its 
vast  and  growing  expanse  and  by  the  mission  of  the 
press  as  a  medium  between  authors  and  the  public. 
Invested  with  this  power  of  judging  and  instructing 
en  topics  embracing  every  grade  of  knowledge,  they 
r(*j;ard  it  as  a  duty  to  their  office  to  assume  a  versatility 
wliich  indeed  transcends  human  capacity.  They  claim 
it  as  essential  to  inspire  confidence,  just  as  in  the  man- 
ner o!  the  physician,  whoso  mere  tone  is  oft  sufficient 
to  ^ain  half  the  battle  over  tho  influences  contending 
with  liis  patient,  and  spur  tho  weakened  imagination 


ii    I 


lao 


CRITICISM. 


to  aid  his  prescription;  or  like  the  judge  upon  whose 
insight  and  decision  depend  Hves  and  fortunes.  Nev- 
ertlieless,  tlie  claim  springs  from  vanity  rather  than 
duty. 

Since  Rabelais,  there  have  been  fouTid  no  other  men 
save  this  race  of  critics,  who,  like  Gargantua  knew 
everything — knew  all  languages,  all  sciences,  all 
ologies,  isms,  and  ononiies;  history,  music,  mathe- 
matics, and  things  worthy  of  belief;  all  realities  and 
})hilosophy;  all  pleasures,  all  pains,  all  creeds,  and  all 
spiritualities,  all  mysteries  beneath  the  earth  and  be- 
yond the  sky. 

Behold  him,  then,  the  bc-wigged  and  be-gowned 
by  virtue  of  authoritative  ink  and  paper,  who  sits  in 
judgment  upon  the  products  of  men's  brains  1  Regard 
him  well,  this  opinion-maker,  this  idea-autocrat.  Is 
he  a  partisan,  prescribed  already  in  his  decisions  ;  or  a 
specialist  with  a  pet  theory  to  which  all  things  must 
square  themselves ;  or  an  unfledged  litterateur  puffed 
with  ambitious  conceits?  Choose  your  judge  and  be 
satisfied  to  be  condenmed  ad  inas  causas. 

Among  the  many  who  assume  the  office  of  critic, 
there  may  be  those  who  can  review  an  ordinary  book 
of  fiction,  history,  science,  or  [)liilosophy  with  discrim- 
inaticm  and  fairness  ;  who,  besides  possessing  as  great 
or  greater  knowledge  of  the  sul>ject  than  the  author, 
can  weio'li  in  an  even  balance  the  merits  and  demerits 
of  the  work,  and  mete  out  in  due  proportions  praise 
and  censure.  And  I  can  truthfully  say  that  it  has 
been  my  good  fortune  to  meet  with  many  men  occu- 
pying that  proud  position;  men  in  whom  are  united 
the  highest  order  of  critical  talent  with  inbred  honesty 
and  fair-mindedness ;  men  to  whom  is  given  the  powci- 
they  wield  because  they  use  it  justly;  men  who  are 
wise  by  reason  of  native  talent  and  education,  and 
who  are  noblemen  by  instinct. 

And  I  have  met  others,  also,  those  who  are  any- 
thin"-  but  honorable,  who  prostitute  their  talents,  and, 


ASSUMPTION  OF    KNOWLKIXIE. 


121 


lie  tilov  professors,  preadicrs,  or  publicans,  doligl.t 
ill  iill  sorts  of  subU"rfu^a>,  protiMidiiig  t»)  what  is 
not  true.  It  is  t'ertainly  within  the  limits  of  truth  to 
sav  that  throe  times  in  four  some  other  than  the  pre- 
toiidod  purpose  actuates  the  ordhuiry  re'viewer  iu  in- 
tiothuiiig  a  hook  to  the  ])uhru',  a  deceit  hased  uj)om 
ail  assumed  knowledge  of  the  subject  which  he  iloes 
not  possess.  If  he  has  not  superior  knowledge,  how 
can  he  oH'er  a  superior  ojiinion?  If  ten  books  are 
oi\('ii  him  to  revi(!W  in  three  davs,  eacli  book  beiuLi 
till'  life-work  of  an  abler  man  than  himself,  or  if  he  is 
a  sjiecialist,  an  expert  in  certain  directions,  and  is 
glvni  a  work  fresh  from  the  hands  of  a  brother  s[)e- 
ciidist,  who  has  devoted  the  last  twenty  years  to  the 
latest  and  fullest  developments  of  the  subject,  we  will 
say  the  work  of  a  student  of  greater  natural  ability 
than  the  critic,  and  of  far  greater  research  and  ap[)li- 
cation,  the  reviewer  has  still  to  assume  a  knowledge  of 
the  subject  and  a  judgment  as  to  the  manner  in  which 
it  should  be  handled  superior  to  the  knowledge  and 
juil^inent  of  the  author,  if  he  would  not  bo  put  down 
as  incompiitent  for  the  task.  Nine  times  in  ten  the 
ta^k  is  inipossil)le,  from  sheer  lack  of  time  to  weigh 
the  subject,  but  nine  times  in  ten  the  counterfeit  in 
criticism  serves  the  public  just  as  well  as  the  genuine 
article,  and  the  consequence  is  that  nine  times  in  ten 
tlic  critic  is  a  sham. 

Tlie  critic  fails  to  consider  that  his  point  of  observa- 
tion is  totally  diflercnt  from  that  of  the  general  reader. 
One  sooks  information  with  which  to  discourse  on  the 
book.  t]\.)  otlier  reads  for  instruction,  and  the  thou^lits 
of  the  two  while  perusing  tlie  same  work  run  in  diH'er- 
cnt  channels.  It  is  not  necessary  for  the  reviewer  to 
know  as  nmch  of  the  subject  treated  as  the  author. 
fhH  is  iiniiossible.  For  durinsj:  the  course  of  a  vear 
tile  reviewer  might  have  occasion  to  notice  a  hundred 
voiumos.  each  on  an  average  having  cost  its  author 
five  y-ars  of  study.  One  may  tell  a  good  watch  with- 
out being  able  to  reproduce  it.     Pretension  is  there- 


122 


CRITICISM. 


fore  absurd  as  well  as  misleading. 


Nevertheless  he 


And  after  all  he  only  floats  with  the  general  cur- 
rent, for  tliree- fourths  of  every  man  is  pretence;  three- 
f  )urt]js  of  society,  its  moralities,  its  politics,  its  con- 
ventionalities, and  its  religions,  is  hypocrisy.  Men  lov(( 
comi)anionship,  wherein  alone  is  progress;  yet  this 
comi)anionsliip  which  we  call  society  is  more  a  seem- 
ing than  a  being.  The  for'j-erics  of  fashion  are  more 
tliaii  its  smcerities ;  the  wrongs  of  religion  are  greater 
than  its  charities;  tlie  sliufflingsand  prevarications  of 
business  and  p(jlitics  attend  all  their  dealings.  For 
so  noljle  an  animal,  man  is  a  wretched  compound, 
though  seasoned  with  sagacity.  Beasts  assume  tlie 
mask  at  times,  but  man  is  a  living  mask,  and  the  worst 
of  it  is  tliat  iie  cannot  escape  his  destiny.  He  is  tlie 
offspring  of  a  double  jiarentage,  truth  and  error;  one 
of  his  fathers  is  tlie  father  of  lies,  to  whom  the  resem- 
blance of  the  child  is  striking.  Man  is  a  mass  of 
sophisms.  The  chief  occupation  of  associated  man  is 
to  deceive  one  another.  Being  but  partially  true  to 
ourselves,  wo  are  in  a  still  greater  degree  false  before 
our  fellows.  And  this  through  no  fault  of  our  own; 
we  are  so  made  ;  we  are  born  into  a  society  full  of 
pretension  and  disguise,  and  civilization  with  its  arts 
enforces  artfulness.  Entering  life  with  our  moral 
beinsr  at  its  be&t,  we  endow  the  world  and  all  it  con- 
tains  with  grace,  beauty,  and  perfection,  which  grad- 
ually change  to  our  perceptions  as  the  years  go  by, 
leaving  us  at  the  last  in  a  maze  of  bewilderment.  At 
the  beginning  of  our  consciousness  the  world  is  spread 
out  before  us  like  a  mirage  of  which  to  the  day  of  our 
death  we  are  proving  the  falsity. 

Among  the  child's  first  teachings  are  so  many 
aphorisms  heretical  to  nature  that  it  would  almost 
appear  that  his  maker  did  not  understand  his  business, 
"that  one  of  nature's  journeymen  had  made  him,  and 
not  made  him  well  either."  First  of  all  he  must  cover 
his  matchless  form,  his  God-made  body,  as  a  thing 


MORALITY  AND  fONSCIKNCE. 


18S 


ertlicless  he 


ii-noininious  to  behold,  unfit  for  human  eyes  to  dwell 
uiH)n;  lie  improvises  shame  and  hides  it  under  clothes. 
Not  only  in  certain  rcsj)ects  must  he  be  to  himself  a 
lie,  hut  his  deception  must  be  aided  by  nature.  Then 
tlint  unruly  member  the  tong'ue  nmst  be  curbed;  it 
must  not  speak  the  wliole  truth,  and  may  often  vir- 
tuously prevaricate.  And  as  society  is  constructed 
wo  cannot  escape  the.se  curses.  What  would  be  the 
Miiin  of  commerce  with  unvarnished  plainness  of  speech 
iuid  dealiui;?  A  bankrupt.  What  would  bo  the  reli- 
gious teacher,  who,  instead  of  telling  his  people  what 
lie  does  not  know,  should  tell  them  all  that  he  does 
kuow  ?  Anathema.  What  should  wo  say  of  a  strict- 
ly honest  politician?    That  he  was  not  a  politician. 

I']ven  conscience  is  a  counterfeit ;  not  a  heaven-born 
nuidi!  as  it  pretends  to  be,  but  a  fungus  fastened  on 
the  mind  by  the  atmosphere  surrounding  it.  Nature 
furnisiies  the  raw  material  for  its  manufacture,  and 
societies  hammer  it  out  according  to  their  several 
ideals.  Form,  fashion,  which  in  all  human  affairs  are 
a  lucessity  until  man  is  perfect,  must  be  the  imperfect 
counterfeit  of  the  reality  they  represent.  Our  cloth- 
ing, our  courtesies,  our  worship,  our  rascalities,  must 
have  forms,  which  are  all  transparent  enough  to  him 
who  has  eyes.  We  pray  by  beads  and  genuflections, 
or  ill  stereotyped  phrases.  Our  social  intercourse, 
like  our  dress,  is  for  simulution  and  display,  rather 
than  for  real  utility. 

^[orality  is  but  a  fashion,  and  society  is  cemented 
hy  sul)terfuge.  Our  religion  is  based  u|)on  a  not 
wliolly  fair  purchase  of  heavenly  favors,  our  poor  tem- 
jtoniry  self-denials  being  urged  as  payment  for  an 
eternity  of  felicity.  True,  our  morality  must  be  for- 
mulitted  in  accordance  with  the  mandates  of  nature, 
and  tlie  standards  of  excellence  set  up  by  society,  as 
a  rule,  conform  to  the  staiidards  accepted  by  our  moral 
and  icsthetic  faculties;  but  it  is  no  less  a  fact  that 
three-fourths  of  our  thoughts,  words,  and  deeds  in  our 
intercourse  with  each  other  are  counterfeit. 


IM 


CRITICISM. 


Wlicrofore,  if  wc  are  so  hollow  and  fulso  in  so  inany 
otlicr  tliiii<j.s,  how  shall  we  liaNe  litciatun!  without 
]iy|)('rl)t)l(',  or  reviews  without  empiricism  <  An  c«litor 
who  iKiVer  wiiolly  praised  any  hook,  yet  often  be- 
smeared with  his  venom  a  really  good  one,  once  re- 
fused to  espouse  a  cause  of  great  public  utility  on  the 
ground  that  people  would  say  he  had  been  bribed! 
The  old,  vulgar,  and  time-worn  trick  of  finding  some 
fault — it  made  little  difference  what,  or  whether  or 
not  deserved,  or  whether  or  not  the  most  glaring  fault 
in  the  work — in  order  to  make  a  show  of  ability,  and 
for  fear  the  pu!)lic  would  think  him  notcapable  of  discov- 
ering imperfections  uidess  he  did  so,  was  a  policy  and 
pi'inciple  with  this  man,  leading  him  into  many  ludi- 
crous absurdities. 

He  was  of  the  truest  type  of  newspaper  hypocrite, 
professing  religion,  professing  integrity,  professing 
immaculate  purity  for  his  newspa[)er,  holding  liimseH' 
a  worthy  member  of  society, — he  was  indeed  possessed 
of  wealth  and  nmch  influence, — ^}^et  utterly  insincere, 
unreliable,  and  not  entitled  to  half  the  respect  which 
should  fall  to  the  holder  of  looser  principles  opeidy 
avowed.  Though  no  lover  of  the  peoj)le,  except  as 
he  was  paid  for  his  love,  he  was  held  in  esteem  by 
many  for  whom  he  concocted  o})inion,  and  who  seemed 
awed  by  the  feeling  that  in  the  inner  sanctuary  of  a 
master  mind  was  distilled  refined  knowledge,  presently 
to  impregnate  the  metal  types,  and  be  distributed  in 
nmltiplications  without  end  on  paper.  A  helper  was 
kept  in  the  office  more  especially  for  the  talent  ht^ 
possessed  of  clothing  verbiage  hi  the  apparel  of  learn- 
ing, like  Gebcr,  the  alchemist,  who  wrote  in  gibberisli, 
or  mystical  jargon,  upon  his  art,  because  to  have  written 
plainly  would  have  brought  him  to  grief. 

It  is  a  matter  the  people  would  do  well  to  consider, 
whether  or  not  there  should  be  allowed  always  to  ex- 
ist in  the  community  one  or  more  newspapers  either 
living  or  building  themselves  upon  black-mail,  attack- 
ing as  may  suit  their  fancy,  citizens  wholly  undeserv- 


IIUMBUO   AND  HYPOCRISY. 


125 


iii'^  of  such  treatment,  with  rulieule  and  scurrility,  in 
(inlcr  to  extort  money  or  attract  roatlers.  Sucli  jour- 
iiiilism  reHects  the  tastes  untl  propensities  of  socict}'  no 
1(  ss  than  tlie  lieart  and  mind  of  the  journalist,  for  the 
latter  will  write  what  the  people  will  read.  Those 
w  ho  so  like  to  hear  ill  of  their  neighbor,  whether  he 
may  be  deserving  of  it  or  not,  need  not  imagine  them- 
selves exempt  from  similar  slanders,  and  should  not 
t'iir;4(t  that  while  living  in  a  comnmnity  permitting  and 
]>:iti(»ni/ing  such  detraction,  they  are  at  any  moment 
iialilc  to  similar  attack. 

Alter  all,  when  we  consider  the  wrong  and  injustice 
so  fi((|ucntly  inHictcd  on  individual  members  of  the 
cMiiiiuunity  by  malicious  writers,  the  author  should 
II. 't  complain  merely  at  seeing  the  better  (puditi(^s  of 
his  hook  passed  over,  and  tlie  remainder,  so  fai  as 
possible  reduced  to  an  absurdity  by  inucndoesor  false 
stutemcnts. 

It  is  easy  to  deride  when  one  can  say  nothing  else. 
'O^Fv  dear  Tom,"  said  Curran  to  Moore  one  dav, 
"when  I  can't  talk  sense  I  t^lk  metaphor."  Few  can 
will  (Well;  anv  one  can  ridicule,  and  often  he  who 
knows  least  condemns  most.  "  There  are  twenty  men 
ol'  wit,"  says  Pope,  "  for  one  man  of  sense." 

"It  is  easy  to  write  an  average  literary  criticism," 
says  ^lathews,  "especially  of  the  fulsome,  laudatory, 
or  savage  cut-and-tlirust  kind,  which  we  find  in  many 
American  journals.  For  such  a  purpose,  little  [)rej)a- 
ration  is  required;  you  have  only  to  cut  tlie  leaves  of 
the  hook  to  be  reviewed,  and  then  smell  of  the  paper 
knit".'." 

riiderlying  most  criticism  is  the  deslx-e  of  the  re- 
viewer to  bring  into  notice  either  himself  or  his  review, 
and  as  this  can  usuall}'  be  done  more  effectually  by 
rtiisiu'o  tlian  by  praise,  the  weaker  victims  are  gener- 
ally sacrificed.  Some  delight  in  picking  a  meritorious 
Work  to  pieces  purely  for  the  pleasure  it  afford".,  just 
as  a  hoy  pulls  off  the  legs  and  wings  of  a  fly  to  see  it 
feffiuirm.     Truth  is  of  no  moment ;    blood  alone  will 


p 


126 


CRITICISM. 


answer  tlie  purpose.  Fur  and  feathers  are  made  to 
i\y,  and  if  horsewhipi  .d  by  the  outraged  author,  hv 
raises  the  cry  of  martyrdom. 

Tlie  miscliievous  a[)[)etitc  for  popularity  is  apparent 
in  almost  all  criticisms,  as  in  almost  every  kind  of 
teacliing  and  anmsing.  Every  reviewer  must  make 
or  sustain  a  reputation  as  an  ingenious  critic,  as  one  of 
hrilliant  wit,  of  fierv  imaoination,  and  who  revels 
in  scrupulous  distinctions.  Hence  the  work  reviewed 
is  fii  ,t  made  to  do  service  to  tlie  reviewer,  after  whlcli 
it  may  be  blessed  or  cursed,  as  ftuicy  dictates.  'Half 
the  lies  of  history,"  says  Mathews,  "  have  their  origin 
in  this  desire  to  be  brilliant." 

Authors  may  writhe  under  the  target  practice  in- 
stituted for  the  momentary  delight  of  reviewers  and 
readers,  but  tlieir  own  attitude  as  critics  tends  to 
undermine  sympathy  for  them.  Every  poet  who  evci' 
lived  lias  been  ridiculed  by  his  brother  poets,  evei\ 
essayist  by  his  brother  essayists,  every  l)]acksmith  by 
his  brothi'r  blacksmiths.  ,  Some,  indeed,  have  praised, 
but  all  have  censured.  Poets  often  stoop  even  to 
scurrilitv.  Southev  siioke  shghtingly  of  Coleridu'es 
Anc'tnd  Mar'nifr.  Fieldin<>-  saw  nothing  good  in  liicli- 
ardson,  nor  Kicliardson  in  Fielding.  To  the  ear  of 
Heattie,  C'liui'diiU's  verse  was  drivellini;  and  dull. 
Doctor  Johnson,  with  all  his  acuteness  and  sagacity 
in  dissecting  metaphysical  writers,  like  Dryden  and 
Pope,  failed  completcsly  when  he  touched  t\w  imagina- 
tive realms  of  romance.  Nor  was  he  better  at  ciiti- 
cism  than  at  poetry.  Often  had  he  reviled  IMilton. 
although  he  confessed  he  never  read  iVrwf//.sr  L<i>-t 
until  obliged  to  do  so  in  order  to  gather  its  words  into 
his  dictionary. 

Milton  jireferred  Cowley  to  Dryden;  Waller,  De 
IVIaistre,  Drvden,  and  manv  others  affirmed  that  Mil- 
ton's  blank  verse  was  not  |)oetiy  ;  the  little  wasp  of 
Twickenliam  received  about  as  many  stings  as  he  gav(  : 
Ben  Johnson  scourged  Spenser,   Donne,   Shaipliuni, 


QUARRELSOME  AUTHORS. 


1-J7 


s  are  made  tc» 
\\  author,  hv 

ty  is  apparent 
?very  kind  ct' 
T  must  make 
ritic,  as  one  of 
who  revels 
\rork  reviewed 
er,  after  wl  lie]  1 
tatcs.  ''Half 
ve  their  origin 


;et  practice  in- 
re viewers  and 
ritics  tends  to 
jKiet  who  ever 
er  poets,  every 
hlaeksniith  h\ 
I,  have  praised, 
stooj)   even  to 
of  Colerid<ie"s 
o()od  in  1^  it'll - 
\)  the  ear  of 
ing   and    dull. 
is  and  saLi^acitv 
e  Dry  den  and 
d  the  iniagina- 
3('tter  at  criti- 
•eviled  ^lilton. 
Paradhv   hu^t 
its  words  into 

fi;  Waller,  De 
nied  that  Mil- 
little  wasp  of 
ijj^s  as  he  gave  ; 
le,   Shari)liani, 


Day,  and  Dekkar.  Bymer,  Voltaire,  and  Sanmtd 
ivogers  ridiculed  Shakespeare,  pronouncing  the  trage- 
(li,\s  bloody  farces,  without  reason  or  coherence.  Of 
Wordsworth's  Frelnde,  Macaulay  says:  "There  are 
the  old  raptures  about  mountains  and  cataracts;  tlie 
old  tiiinsy  philosophy  about  the  effects  of  scenery  on 
the  mind;  the  old  crazy  mystical  metaphysics;  the 
endless  wilderness  of  dull,  flat,  prosaic  declamations 
interspersed  ; "  and  this  is  the  poem  which  Coleridge 
liad  called  "an  Orphic  song  indeed,  a  song  divine,  of 
)iij,h  and    passionate    thoughts,  to  their  own   nmsie 

(■li:lllt(>d." 

In  (Jray's  Ekfpj  neither  Wordsworth  nor  Coleridge 
saw  merit.  Gray  i)retended  he  could  distinguish  no 
;j,' iiius  in  Goldsmith,  Voltaire,  Rousseau,  Hume, 
TliDiiison,  or  Collin.s;  hideed,  in  Grav's  eves  there 
was  but  one  poet,  and  that  was  (Iniy.  Scarcely  an 
autlmr  of  note  escapes  scathing  condemnation  in  some 
firm.  To  bo  of  note  im[)lies  originality,  and  new  ideas 
falling  among  dogmatic  opinionists  are  sure  to  be 
wrangled  over.  Innovation  invites  derision  ;  sneers 
aiv  liie  present  reward  of  liini  who  writes  for  the 
future. 

l']Isewhere  than  in  literature  are  discovered  the 
.same  manifestation.s.  Scott  saw  notliiuL''  beautiful  in 
pictures,  nor  had  he  any  ear  for  nmsic.  Sir  llobert 
Pg'I  disliked  nmsic.  Lord  Holland  hated  pictures; 
]|\  I'on  (lid  not  care  for  architecture,  nor  did  jNIadame 
do  Staiil  for  grand  scenery. 

In  every  pronounced  character  there  appears  to  lif> 
some  one  sense  lacking.  Probably  there  never  liv( d 
a  man  possessed  of  more  swee[)ing  or  subtler  critical 
ficulties  than  William  Hazlitt,  already  mentioned.  ]^y 
a  kind  of  preternatural  insight  or  intellectual  intuition 
lie  felt  at  once  and  with  remarkable  precision  what 
another  could  reach  onlv  bv  study  '  tst  as  a  nmsical 
ii'tMiius  catches  the  spirit  of  a  composition  the  moment 
liis  eye  alights  on  it.  Atid  yet,  though  the  assertion 
may  seem  paradoxical,  his  criticisms  were  always  de- 


128 


CRITICISM. 


'i   ; 


foctivc!,  and  the  cause  may  be  traced  to  the  possession 
of  these  extraordinary  critical  faculties.  Inspiration 
is  a  splendid  tiling  in  criticism,  but  even  genius  cannot 
know  all  a  book  contains  without  reading  it.  The 
trouble  with  Hazlitt  was,  that  he  did  not  possess  pa- 
tience thoroughly  to  master  the  work  he  attempted 
to  criticize.  His  sharp  invective  was  hurled  alike  on 
all.  Between  friend  and  foe  ho  made  no  distinction. 
Wlierever  he  saw  faults  or  foibles  he  assumed  the 
riglit  to  expose,  and  if  jjossible  to  exterminate  them. 
The  temperament  of  Rogers,  the  poet,  on  the  other 
hand,  was  most  variable.  With  whatsoever  his  spirit 
harmonized,  he  was  all  delicacy  and  aflection;  regard- 
in<j[  thino's  hateful  to  him,  there  was  dis|)laved  an 
acerbity  ahnost  dialxjlicai.  Yet  while  every  man  docs 
not  permit  his  judgment  to  be  made  the  tool  of  j)as- 
sion,  in  humanity  there  is  no  such  thing  as  passionhss 
o[)inion.  "  Tant  le  tres  irritable  amour-propre  des 
gens  de  lettres  est  difficile  a  menagerl"  exclaims 
Rousseau.  Some  yield  readily  to  tender  feelings,  as 
Pope,  who  burst  into  tears  on  reading  lEonu^r's  rep- 
resentation of  Priam's  grief  over  Hector's  loss;  or 
Shelley,  who  fainted  on  hearing  read  for  the  first  time 
a  certain  passage  in  Christabel  1 

The  condition  of  the  reviewer's  blood  or  liver  often 
determines  the  color  of  his  criticisms,  leading  him  to 
dwell  on  parts,  or  to  select  for  special  attention  pas- 
sages of  b(>auty  or  deformity.  Most  energetic,  ambi- 
tious iH'i'Sftns  have  within  them  a  certain  amount  of 
innnoral  bil(%  which  they  nmst  occasionally  discharge. 
Thus  with  indigestion,  loss  of  slee[),  matrimonird  infe- 
licities, or  wiiu;  and  late  hours,  the  reviewer  whets 
liis  })en,  and  books  are  made  the  innocent  victims  of 
an  acrimonious  tem[)er.  From  the  freshly  opened 
volume  comes  an  odor,  fragrant  or  stale  as  the  case 
may  be,  but  always  responsive  to  the  critic's  Immoi'. 

Criticism  is  by  far  too  polemical.  Leaving  its 
purely  literary  sphere,  we  see  it  every  now  and  then 


THE  MAN  AXD  TEE  WORK. 


129 


'   'M 


stiikiiTJC  out  into  divers  controversies  wliicli  liavo 
liMtliiiio-  to  do  with  tliG  questions  at  issue,  and  wliicli 
]!;'ii<.\v  tlie  minds  of  men  to  one-sided  views  of  tl:inus, 
juid  lilind  tlieni  even  to  tlieir  own  blindness.  \Y];i!e 
s  line  have  assisted  to  jxipiilarity  fanatical  or  superficial 
authors,  as  Tuppcr,  IfolJand,  and  a  host  of  others, 
the  profound  lucidity  of  such  scholars  as  Mill,  Lecky, 
^vuiicer,  and  Draper  has  been  lost  upon  them,  their 
siiit  of  judgment  behig  in  the  heart  rather  than  hi 
tlic  head,  if  indeed  tliey  ean  be  said  to  possess  in  any 
Soii^e  the  faculty  of  jud<.nnent.  In  otliei's,  the  very 
sui)eriority  of  the  author  inspires  dislike,  his  merit 
pi'ovinjif  the  cause  of  condenniation  ;  as  we  sometimes 
s(".'  a  man  wlio  is  i'ltu hi.  ••  'o  another  assail  his  bene- 
factor with  a  view  the)  ."I >;>   ,  .  lessen  the  obligation. 

Xot  unfre(|uentl3  tl;'>  "ritic  aflects  to  photograj.h 
t:u'  author  from  his  writings.  This  affords  an  oppor- 
tunity for  tlie  dis[tlay  of  nmch  fustian,  but  it  results 
in  little  t'lse.  The  work  alone  falls  within  the  jirov- 
im  e  of  criticism,  not  tlie  author,  else  faults  of  stvle 
iMriiiiio  faults  t>f  characti'r.  ('f  t]:e  author  <^f  evt  rv 
work  he  criticised,  Saint-Beuve  asked  himself  tl  e 
f  llowing  cjuestions :  '■  Vv'hiit  were  his  n  ligious  views  I 
1 1  )\v  did  the  si'-ht  of  nature  ali'ect  liim  (  How  ^vas 
]ir  alFe(  ted  toward  women,  and  bvm(!ne^■?  Was  he 
rich,  poor,  and  what  was  h's  regimdif  AVhat  Avere 
liis  (luily  habits,  and  his  besetting  t-\\i>- ,'"  AU'of  whlc  h 
iUT  essential  in  l)iograpliy,  but  iriih'v.nt  in  criticism. 


]]e('ause  an  artist  scjuints,  lii's  i 


11),  cr  a 


br(  »1 


vcn 


llosc 


ai'e  his  Venuses  and  ^la;Joji 


til 


iiv 


f.     Bi 


■cause  an  author  is  in 
,1 


Ki  IS   t  •    he    ludo'ed 


II-  >  1. 


or  nnniora 


or    smoU(  s,    swears,    «''aini>les, 


ei'  wears  long  hair 
lirciiihes,  or  ])rays  are  his  printed  facts  any  better  or 
WiUM'  on  account  of  anv  of  thoo'il  The  character  of 
till'  w  1  iter  cannot  be  i)ortrayed  from  his  works,  nor  is 
it  iicecss'.uy  that  it  should  be.  Who  can  picture  the 
irlo^iv'sof  Eden  like  TiUcifer,  <  the  sweet  serenities 
et'tein])erancc  like  the  inebriat'  ■   •  dutton  ?    h^uripides, 

1:->AVS  ASI>   MlSCKLLANV       U 


i'i 


130 


CRITICISM. 


tlio  most  tour]iin<:;  of  Greek  traujic  poets,  tliough  more 
skoptica.1  ill  liis  religious  opinions  than  yl^]srliylus,  was 
a  more  piou^  writer.  Love  ratluT  than  fear  was  tlic 
spirit  of  Ills  teacliini^s.  If  we  accept  sucli  precepts 
only  as  tliose  that  tall  from  pure  li]»s,  we  shall  wait 
long  to  he  wise.  And  yet  how  quickly  the  intelligent 
read'^r  imagines  he  detects  the  qualities  of  his  author's 
mind  and  manner,  fancying  he  sees  before  him  a  boor, 
a  gentleman,  one  instinct  with  fun,  kindness,  lionesty, 
or  the  reverse.  Did  not  James  Boswell,  Esquire,  tlio 
blustering  J^ritisli  coxcomb,  the  witless  wit,  the  syc;)- 
phaut  and  sot,  the  spy  and  tattler,  did  ho  not  write 
the  best  biography  in  the  English  langu.  <  ^^  e  most 
natural,  the  most  vivid,  the  most  truthfui,  d  that 
because  he  was  such  an  egrcgrious  ass  as  aiw^ays  to 
tell  all  he  knew?  And  shall  not  a  critic  in  his  review 
separate  such  an  author  from  such  a  work?  This  as 
a  rule;  notwithstanding  which  there  may  be  some 
truth  in  the  words  of  Jean  Paul:  "Xie  zeichnet  der 
IVIenseh  den  eignen  charakter  schilrfer  als  in  seiner 
Miinier  eirien  fremden  zu  zeichnen." 

I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  a  reader  can  know  notli- 
ing  of  a  man  by  his  words  and  sentences.  If  we  m;iy 
know  something  of  a  person  by  his  dress,  his  walk, 
his  air,  or  attitude^,  surely  we  may  know  more  of  him 
when  lie  opens  his  mouth  to  speak  or  introduces  us  to 
his  inner  self  tlirough  the  expression  of  ideas  upon 
paper.  Tlio  choice  of  language  antl  style  is  an  ind*  x: 
to  a  man's  character.  In  expn^ssions  empliatic,  mod- 
erate, verl)ose,  we  see  men  of  different  dispositions. 
He  is  recognized  as  cool-headed,  tenqterate,  wlm 
Weighs  carefully  his  opinions,  and  makes  his  woiils 
strong  from  their  very  scarcitv.  We  see  a  doumatir 
disposition  in  one  who  makes  assertions  in  a  positi\c, 
arrogjint  manner,  never  admitting  a  doubt  as  to  the 
correctness  of  his  ojtinions.  We  know  another  to  ho 
inii)(>tuous  and  irritable  from  the  hurried  vehemeiiee 
of  liis  words  and  his  impatience  of  controversy.  ]>ut 
to  know  and  judge  a  man  is  very  ditlerent  from  con- 


TKK'KS  01'    TIIH  TUADK. 


ir. 


ough  more 
-liylus,  ^vas 
;ar  was  tlic 
'h  precepts 
3  sliall  wait 
!  intelligent 
his  author's 
hhiiaboor, 
'ss,  honesty, 
Esquire,  tlu 
it,  the  £yco- 
,0  not  write 
_r     '-^  n  niost 
ai,        -I  tliat 
as  ai  \vays  t'  > 
in  his  review 
■k?     This  as 
my  he  son)(^ 
zciehnet  cUr 
als  in  seiner 

I  know  noth- 
If  we  may 

iss,  his  walk, 
more  of  him 
■oduccs  us  to 
f  ideas  upon 
e  is  an  in(l<  k 
|iphatic,  mo'l- 
dispositions. 

Iiperate,  wlm 
,es  his  wor«!s 
e  a  dogmalir 
in  a  positi\< , 
.bt  as  to  tlie 
kiiother  to  ho 
I'd  vehemenco 
)Versy.  r>ut 
it  from  cuu- 


demiiing  the  W(n'k  on  account  of  the  workman,  or  rat- 
ing a  book  as  good  or  had  on  account  of  the  autho)''s 
temper  or  morality. 

Too  often  in  conversational  criticism  tlic  author  is 
made  a  vehicle  in  wliicli  to  cany  oti'  the  lumber  of 
tli(!  writer's  diMUolished  ideas.  This  is  tlie  case  wlien 
liir  main  features  of  the  work  are  igiioi'ed  while  iiisig- 
nilicant  parts  are  taken  up  and  discussed  with  all  the 
-gravity  of  a  DeQuiiicey  expatiating  on  murder  as  a 
liiir  art.  The  critic's  own  idiosyncrasies  replace  the 
^.ciitiments  of  tlie  author  criticized.  The  reviewer, 
v.lm  perhaps  is  some  professional  man  or  theOi"'-;t, 
t.ikos  this  op])ortunity  for  ventilating  liis  ideas  on  the 
sulijiHt  under  consideration,  and  tlie  author  and  his 
v,i  rk  are  placed  in  the  background.  Such  wt-re  many 
el' the  reviews  of  ^Facaulay,  wlio  used  the  hook  only 
as  a  text  t(^  i)reac]i  a  sermon  from. 

There  is  much  of  this  sjtecial  pleading  in  criticism, 
wilt  le  the  member  of  a  sect  or  a  society,  a  })rofessor 
ovddctorof  something,  views  the  woi'ld  always  through 
\\v  iiiists  of  his  learinng,  and  the  main  object  of  whose 
111'  is  to  make  converts  to  liis  theory.  As  for  unadul- 
u  vAwd  truth,  few  desire  it,  or  have  the  courage  al- 
■\\    .  s  to  own  it  when  they  find  it. 

What  cares  the  sectarian  for  truth  while  ])leading 
f  If  proselytes?  What  cares  the  politician  for  truth 
wliilc  siH'king  to  exalt  liimself  or  liis  party  ^  What 
cares  the  author  for  truth  who  seeks  only  to  jm'ovc  a 
tavoriie  theory,  or  who  writes  to  s<Miare  his  facts  to 
lii>  |)hiloso[»liy ?  And  what  is  more,  this  garbled, 
iiK  iiilaeious  stylo  of  writing  is  expeeted,  regarded 
wiili  fa\or,  and  even  demanded  in  the  higlu'st  rpiar- 
ters.  ]\r  wlio  does  not  write  as  advocate  or  special 
]ik'ailer  on  one  side  or  the  other  of  a  subject,  but 
!-iiii|ily  to  tell  what  is  known  of  it, that  the  truth  may 
liiially  be  ascertained,  seems  in  the  eyes  of  many  to 
bi'  lacking  in  something.  "A  critic  inontiof  th(>  quar- 
terlies," savs  Hamerton,  "once  treated  me  as  a  feeble 


132 


CRITICISM. 


defender  of  my  opinions,  berauso  I  gave  due  consider- 
ation to  both  sides  of  a  question." 

It  must  not  be  forgotten  tliat  nearly  all  tlio  so- 
caHcd  exponents  of  public  opinion  are  in  bondage  to 
briiid-Avinning,  either  as  salaried  men  or  proprietors. 
All  teachers,  preachers,  professors,  editors,  and  nine- 
tcntlis  of  the  authors  are  chained  in  greater  or  less 
di'giee  by  some  one  interest,  obligation,  or  necessity 
to  (H'rtain  lines  of  thought  and  conduct.  The  jour- 
nalist, if  ])r()[)rietor,  must  first  of  all  consider  the 
interests  of  his  journal,  the  salaried  editor,  of  his  pay  ; 
the  clergyman  and  the  professor  must  follow  the 
c(»urse  marked  out  for  tliem  by  tradition  and  associa- 
tit)n.  True,  they  will  claim  to  believe  in  what  they 
teach  ;  but  if  knowledge  is  a  fixed  quantity  what  hope 
lias  progress?  The  popular  writer  must  sacrifice 
whatever  prevents  the  admission  of  his  article  in  the 
pojtular  magazine,  whose  publishers  unhesitatingly 
saciifice  whatever  impedes  its  circulation.  It  is  a 
very  difficult  matter  making  men  see  the  truth  con- 
trary to  their  interests.  All  this  should  be  remem- 
bered in  criticising  critics. 

Even  ap})arently  independent  criticisms  in  book 
form  have  to  study  the  viev/s  of  publishcis  and  par- 
ties, while  the  great  mass,  in  the  public  journals,  are 
s\va}\  I  i.ot  only  by  pressure  of  time,  but  by  preju- 
dices of  the  editor  aiul  pro])rietor,  and  the  s[)irit  of  the 
publication.  The  press  is  called  the  mouth-piece  t)f  the 
pe()])le,  and  as  they  would  give  utterance  so  nmst  it 
speak.  But  in  what  a  limited  degree  does  this  apply. 
Few  of  the  peo[)le  think  at  all,  and  when  they  open 
their  mouths  nothing  comes  forth.  To  such  the  pub- 
lic journal  is  brains  rather  than  tongue. 

Of  those  who  think,  or  imagine  so,  few  penetrate 
l)encath  the  surface  of  things,  breaking  asunder  tlic 
hold  u]i(»n  tliem  of  tradition  and  environment,  himI 
casthig  themselves  adrift  on  the  sea  of  reason,  witli 
yuly  nature  and  experience  as  a  rudder.     They  do 


JOUIIX ALL^TIC  SUBTEIlFUr;  E. 


133 


not  rcacli  tlie  bottom  of  any  thinsjj,  or  follow  any  sub- 
ject to  its  source ;  consequently  tlicy  are  ever  ready 
tvO  list(^n  to  those  wlio  pretend  to  know  more  tlian  tlicy. 
Of  this  class,  iu  a  certain  sense,  tlie  [>ul»lic  jouinal  is 
the  nioutli-piece,  holding'  sway  in  most  matters  by 
means  of  that  well-sustained  assumption  of  su[)enor 
kiio\vl<-d<2;e  wliich  is  necessary  to  successful  leadersliip. 

The  dii»'nity  of  criticism  sinks  materially  wlien  the 
views  of  certain  journals  rcj^arding  any  work  on  a 
u'iven  subject  may  bo  foretold  by  one  ccmversant  with 
the  policy  or  prejudices  of  its  editor.  The  popularity 
of  tlie  journal  is  its  life  blood,  and  is  paramount  to 
tiuth  or  fairness;  sometimes  the  popular  course  is  in 
th.e  (hrcctlon  of  truth  and  the  right.  Where  a  book 
falls  into  the  hands  of  a  school  or  clique,  it  is  m.-idc  a 
f()i)t-ball,  and  criticism,  like  sectarianism,  or  political 
partisanship,  l)ecomes  a  fight.  Though  the  free  indul- 
gence of  ])ersonalties  in  criticism  which  obtained  in 
Byron's  day  is  modified,  we  have  perhaps  what  is 
worse  in  these  self-o})inionated  cabals.  What  would 
bo  tliought  of  a  Chinese  woman  jealously  decrving  a 
Parisian  head-dress,  or  a  Chinook  finding  ^ault  with 
the  religious  observances  of  the  Turks;  and  yet  as 
(;voss  absurdities  are  perpetrated  daily  amid  the  world 
of  criticism. 

Every  shade  of  theological  and  political  ojiinion  has 
its  organ  of  criticism,  whose  illogical  dogmatism  is  the 
very    irony    of  lione-'ty.  Its    mandates  take   the 

jilaco  of  the  political  or  theological  censorslii[)  which 
circumscribes  the  j)ress  in  so  many  foreign  countries. 
Instance  the  effect  on  ^lerimee's  review  of  Xdjxilcon^s 
('!r>'<ir.  "  I  am  not  dissatisfied  with  my  article  on  T/ie 
HiMori/  of  Julius  drmr,"  writes  he  to  his  Incognita. 
"As  the  task  was  imposed  on  me,  submission  was  v.n- 
^.voidable.  You  know  how  very  highly  I  think  both 
of  the  author  and  his  book,  and  you  also  api>i'eciate 
tlic  difficulties  besetting  the  critic  who  would  d»>pre- 
(iito  the  imputation  of  sycophancy  and  yet  say  noth- 
inn'  unbecoming." 


134 


CRITICISM. 


After  all,  there  are  only  a  comparatively  few  lead- 
irii,^  journals  and  journalists  iu  the  world,  the  few 
which  ai'(!  really  what  they  ])reteiid  to  be,  makers  of 
opinion,  that  a  writer  for  lasting'  fame  needs  to  fear. 
Al)out  th«'se  there  is  little  of  that  "ignorant  })rais(', 
vvhicli,"  as  (jteor^o  Elliot  says,  "misses  every  valid 
quality,"  nor  yet  iujnorant  condemnation.  Before  I 
should  agree  with  Doctor  Johnson  when  he  says,  "I 
would  rather  be  attacked  than  unnoticed;  for  the 
worst  thiiiij  you  can  do  to  an  author  is  to  he  silent  as 
to  his  works,"  I  should  consider  who  or  what  it  was 
that  attacked.  While  the  Olympian  o()ds  hi  council 
were  discussinof  what  should  be  done  with  certain 
skejttics  on  earth  who  doubted  their  existence,  a  mes- 
sent»er  from  below  amiounced  the  occurrence  of  a  duel 
of  philosophers  over  the  subject.  Orthodox  Timocles 
disjmtes  with  infidel  Damis.  Timocles  becomes  con- 
fused in  his  argument,  then  angry,  and  threatens  to 
break  the  head  of  Damis,  who  laughingly  escapes, 
Ju[)iter  is  in  sorrowful  doubt  where  lies  the  victory. 
Mercury  attempts  to  console  him  by  saying  that  they 
still  have  the  sx^cater  nund)ers  with  them,  let  Damis 
win  whom  he  may.  "Yes,"  re[»lied  Jupiter,  "but  I 
would  rather  have  on  my  side  one  man  like  Damis 
than  ten  thousand  Babylonians." 

There  may  be  no  deejKT  thinkers  in  the  world  now 
than  three  thousand  years  aoo  •  but  mind  seems  t ) 
have  been  somewhat  quickened  since  the  days  of  the 
ancients,  and  there  is  more  to  think  about,  more  «)f 
reality  and  less  of  speculation.  After  the  voyages  of 
Columbus  knowledge  rapidly  multi|)lied. 

The  true  critic,  after  determining  the  questions 
whether  or  not  the  book  has  any  right  to  bo,  whether 
or  net  the  author's  subject  is  of  sufficient  importance 
to  claim  public  attention,  whether  or  not  the  author 
has  a  proper  cause  to  lay  before  the  tribunal  of  letters, 
will  then  proceed  to  determine  the  merit  of  the  }>lan 
and  the  faithfulness  of  execution. 

Adverse  criticism,  in  so  far  as  it  is  merited,  should 


WORKS  OF  MIXED  MERIT. 


13S 


always  unfliiK'liiii<;ly  be  given;  but  not  in  a  spirit  of 
injustice  or  aiitagoui.sin.  Neither  coars(!  persoutilitios 
nor  clironic  fault-findings  are  ])roduetive  of  any  good, 
liiijxifeetions  may  be  jjointed  out  with  scrui)ulou.s 
tare,  but  uninijjortant  deficiencies  sliould  not  be  [)ar- 
adcd  as  i)riniarv  failini'S,  an«l  so  made  condemnatory 
of  the  wliole  To  be  i)roductive  of  good  both  to  the 
autlior  and  to  tlie  public,  let  faults  bo  found  in  con- 
nection with  good  qualities,  if  of  the  latter  there  bo 
any,  and  all  in  kind  and  conscientious  fairness;  so 
that  while  the  public  an;  warned  of  false  pretenders, 
inexperienced  authors  of  meritorious  work  may  be  led 
to  conect  the  error  of  their  ways. 

It  is  not  expected  that  dullness  and  stupidity  should 
be  lewai'ded.  Least  of  all  is  it  to  the  interest  of 
wiiters  of  good  books  that  the  incompetent  should  be 
successful.  Yet  might  the  critics  make  it  a  little 
more  their  i)leasure  to  point  out  the  merits  of  a  good 
l)()()k,  as  well  as  the  imperfections  of  a  poor  one. 
Jean  Paul  liichter  says  that  a  book  without  beautii  s 
is  a  bad  thing,  but  a  book  without  faults  is  n(jt  there- 
fore necessarily  a  g(X)d  one.  "Let  3'our  rogU(>s  in 
novels  act  like  rogues,"  says  Thackeray,  "and  your 
honest  men  like  honest  men;  don't  let  us  haxe  any 
juggling  and  thimbh'rigging  with  virtue  and  vice,  so 
that  at  the  end  of  three  volumes  the  bewildered  reader 
shiill  not  know  which  is  which."  This  may  sound 
very  well  in  novels,  though  such  a  sentiment  does  not 
tend  to  raise  the  discriminating  qualities  of  the  satir- 
ist in  the  reader's  opinion,  for  hi  real  life  we  find  no 
such  thing  as  men  all  rogues  or  all  honest.  Paul 
]>'i(liter  complained  that  the  reviews  bestowed  upon 
his  Works  either  extravagant  praise  or  indiscriminate 
etiisure.  "Die  Kritik,"  he  says,  "nimnit  oft  dem 
J^auine  Raupen  unc^  Bllithen  mit  (>inander."  It  is 
easy  to  Hatter,  but  exceedinixly  difficult  to  bestow 
heart-felt  i)ruise.  We  may  for  charity's  sake  overlook 
slight  i'aults  in  a  meritorious  work.  "A  book  may  be 
as  great  a  thing  as  a  battle,"  says  Disraeli ;  the  life 


136 


CRITICISM. 


and  clmrartcr  of  a  <X()nd  book  may  bo  nicasurcMl  with 
the  lit'o  and  cliaracter  of  a  <j;'ood  man  ;  fictiuontly  one 
o-ood  book  is  worth  a  thousand  men.  lie  thi-ioforo 
wlio  wilfully  and  maliciously  murders  n  i^ood  1h-,1< 
or  destroys  pniiseworthy  etlbit,  cannot  be  too  scytTely 
condenmed;  thouLjli  as  Maitial  says: " Chartis  nee  furta 
noeent,  ot  falcula  prosunt;  solaijue  non  norunt  hiuc 
monumenta  mori." 

Perfection  nowhere  exists;  yet  few  books  ]>rint' d 
arc  wholly  (levt)id  of  merit.  That  maryellous  student, 
the  (ilder  Pliny,  always  took  notes  as  he  read.  (K'cliir- 
in;4  that  he  could  find  somcthin;j;  good  in  the  worst  of 
books.  Attempts  cycii  arc  worth  some  consideration. 
A  bad  author  is  bad  enough,  l)ut  an  inconi[)etent  or 
diH4ionest  critic  is  worse.  The  least  meritorious 
author  does  some  jjjood;  tiie  best  critic  nmch  eyil. 

Carlylc  says:  "Of  no  giyen  book,  not  eyen  of  a 
fashionable  novel,  can  you  predict  with  certainty  that 
its  yacuity  is  absolute;  that  there  are  not  other 
yacuities  which  shall  partially  replenish  theniselyes 
therefrom,  and  esteem  it  a  Plotmi}.  And  knowi'st 
thou,  may  tlio  distressed  noyelwright  exclaim,  that  I, 
here  where  I  sit,  am  the  foolishe.st  of  existino-  mortals; 
that  this  my  ]o\vx  car  of  a  fictitious  bioin-anhy  shall 
not  find  one  and  the  other  into  whoso  still  lon;j;er  eais 
it  may  be  the  means,  under  [)royidence,  of  instillin;,!; 
somewhat?  We  answer  none  knows,  none  can  cer- 
tainly know;  therefore  wa-ite  on,  worthy  hrotlun*,  ey^'u 
as  thou  canst,  eycn  as  it  has  been  o-iven  thee." 

In  literary  ventures  the  chances  of  success  are  in 
no  wise  ])roportionate  to  the  necessary  tiiibrts.  Dic- 
tion-drillinL!;  and  literary  stuflfinsj^  do  not  make  a 
w^riter.  Innumerable  perplexities  often  beset  the 
author,  of  which  the  reviewer  knows  nothing;  not 
unfre({uently  an  author  is  obliged  to  adopt  a  i)laii 
which  no  one  kno\vs  better  than  himself  to  be  faulty, 
in  order  to  avoid  a  yet  more  faulty  course. 

In  quoting  from  a  work  the  reviewer  by  artful 
selections   can    make    the   author   say   anything   ho 


TliUTII   AND  FALSEHOOD. 


137 


wishes.  The  AtliMiiMslnn  creed  is  not  to  bo  fouiKl  in 
the  writings  of  Ail. iiiiasius.  Savs  Jfeihci't  S[i(Mieer 
on  (his  sultjcet,  "  We  eauiiot  inter  t'roiii  u  tVa^imiit  (  f 
a  (diii[)ositittn  wliat  the  wliok;  is,  any  more  than  we 
( iiuld  (h'seril)e  Babylon  from  .specimens  of  tlio  briel;s 
UM(I  ill  iis  ( oiistructioii.  This  is  a  }>i'inciiiK'  wliicii 
s!»uii(l  criticism  liojds  fast  to  in  pronouiiciiig"  its  Judg- 
nuiits  oil  autliors  and  books."  To  mass  f-icts  and 
present  argunu^nts  for  tlu^  su])])ort  of  but  one  side  of 
a  ([Uestion,  ])retending  meanwhile  to  state  tlie  vviiolo 
case  trutl.fully,  be  it  in  law,  theology,  or  letters,  is 
iM'ilher  honorable,  nor  beneficial  to  mankind. 


1  longer  ears 


hne  can  cer 


Iccess  are  ni 


othinu;   net 


In  the  ultimate  i)rinciph>s  of  human  natun^  tliere  is 
a  dualism  which  manifests  itself  in  all  hunwui  ail'airs. 
All  (I  /(/•/e/v"  analysis  of  humanitv  Is  not  necessary  to 
show  that  in  all  things  relating  to  man,  no  les.s  than 
te  man  himself,  there  are  two  sides.  In  social  inter- 
cour.se  there  is  an  inner,  proximate,  and  real  side, 
and  an  outer,  disingeimous,  artiticial,  and  false  side. 
\Ve  know  what  we  are ;  we  are  none  of  us  exaj  tly 
satisfied  with  ourselves;  we  would  appear  something 
(litreient.  Hence  the  prmiary  pur[)o.se  of  s:)eiety  lies 
no  h'ss  in  xiipin'ots/o  rcri  than  in  xiit/ijcsfio  fdlsi, 

liikewise  whatever  man  touches,  l)e  it  from  the 
highest  and  purest  motives,  lie  warps  and  falsely 
celors.  There  is  nothing  he  so  eschews  as  truth, 
even  while  pr(>tending  to  search  for  it.  If  h(>  ascends 
the  ])ul[iit  it  is  for  the  purpo.se  of  dngmati/ing  rather 
llian  for  honest  inquiry.  If  ho  enters  ])olities  it  is  for 
tJie  })urposc  of  serving  liimself,  while  pretending  to 
serve  the  public.  If  he  publislies  a  journal,  and 
swears  upon  the  holy  evangelists  that  honor,  inti'g- 
rity,  and  the  welfare  of  the  peoytle  ar(\  and  ever  shall 
he,  liis  governing  principles,  beware!  for  he  will  b(>- 
tiay  you,  aye,  he  will  besmear  his  manhood  with 
(Htcli-watcr  and  .sacrifice  friend,  wife,  or  mother  to 
v.liatcver  he  conceives  to  be  for  the  interests  of  his 
journal.     The  physician  will  leave  a  man  to  die  rather 


13S 


CU1TIC18.M. 


tliaii  submit  to  wliat  lie  re^artls  as  a  breach  of  prof«s- 
sioiial  eti(|ucttc.  The  lawyer  will  clear  a  niurtlert  r, 
];ii()\viM!4'  biiii  to  be  such,  aiidlet  hiui  loose,  like  a  blood- 
hound, with  a[)[)etite  whetted  by  coiitiuouient,  njnaiu 
to  i)rey  upon  society.  Jurymen,  sworn  to  render  a 
verdict  accoriliiii^  to  the  testimony,  fling  cvidcnco  to 
the  wind,  and  consult  only  tlicir  feelings. 

^laiiy  empliasize  the  value  of  standards  by  whicli 
to  judj^e.  l*()[)e  says  study  tlio  ancients,  and  square 
a'l  criticism  by  their  rule;  but  before  (^reeco  and 
Rome  is  nature,  whose  ethics  should  be  our  guide. 
The  ancients  were  not  so  wise  as  tlicy  have  been  ac- 
counted ;  they  were  not  so  wise  as  the  men  of  to-day. 
Canons  of  critical  art  can  be  laid  down  but  partially, 
and  cannot  l)e  made  to  fit  every  case;  yet  one  may 
always  broadly  know  souiul  sincerity  from  hollow 
cliicanery.  Neither  in  literature  nor  in  art  has  the 
world  a  complete  and  acce[tted  standard  of  excellence. 
Art,  like  nature,  may  not  alwa3'S  be  interpreted  by 
[)n'8cr!l)ed  rules.  Volumes  sent  foi'th  among  review- 
ers to  bo  measured  by  rule  have  been  made  the  battle 
ground  of  contending  factions  equally  with  those  upon 
which  critics  have  i)assed  candid  judgment  from  their 
own  intuitive  sense  of  right  and  wrong.  Philosophic 
criticism  is  broadly  guided  by  nature  as  the  source  of 
all  knowledge. 

Inspiration  alone  can  fathom  inspiration  or  experi- 
ence fiitliom  experience.  Beads  of  persi»iration  rest- 
ing on  the  brow  may  tell  of  bodily  fatigue,  or  of  the 
soul's  great  agony,  or  they  may  give  welcome  notice 
that  the  crisis  of  fever  is  safely  passed. 

The  dramatic  critic  has  the  advantage  of  the  re- 
viewer of  books  in  one  respect;  he  is  not  obliged  to 
pronounce  his  verdict  until  after  the  public  have  ren- 
dered theirs.  Even  the  canons  of  dramatic  criticism 
are  taken  ready  made  from  the  play-goers.  Moralit}', 
an  essential  of  literature,  is  subordinated  to  expression 
in  tlie  drama.  We  read  books  for  instruction  ai.J 
improvement ;    we    attend    the   play    for    pleasure. 


DISINTKH 


)NESS. 


189 


llciico  ill  tlio  (Iraiuji,  nunv.  tliau  in  litcraiuro.  to  vm- 
pliasizo  a  vico  is  no  loss  plcasiii;^  to  tlio  puMic  inind 
thiiii  to  a<lorn  a  vi^tu(^  Tlio  puro-iiiintled  tli(»ugli 
\iii"(!'ul  Anno  Bolc'Vii  is  U-dious  on  the  sta-jc  hosido 
l!i"  sinful  tasciimtioiis  of  Caiiiillc,  Pliiloso[>liic  oriti- 
ci-iii  is  ail  enli'jrliteiu'd  curiositv  which  seeks  to  know 
tlie  Ljood,  an  eiilii^hteiied  juclgineiit  which  seeks  to 
tl'hriiuiie  the  rij^ht.  It  seeks  to  turn  from  party 
(ant  and  plant  itself  fairly  on  the  })latform  of  truth. 
It  does  not  stop  to  cavil  at  unimportant  peculiarities 
nf  stvlc  or  diction  ;  the  author's  o})[)ortunities  as  well 
i!s  his  aims  arc  considered,  the  time  in  which  he  lived 
t\<  \V'  II  as  the  result  of  his  undertakinyf.  The  critic 
sli;iu!d  he  ni  rapport  with  the  author  instead  of  nien- 
tiilly  armed  against  him.  As  Porter  says,  "The 
Clitic  cannot  be  just  to  an  author  unless  lie  puts  him- 
srlf  in  tlio  author's  place." 

Matthew  Arnold  gives  his  rule  of  criticism  in  one 
word,  disintoreste('  "ss.  And  this  he  would  disjJay 
In-  liolding  aloof  '  what  he  calls  the  practical  view 
I'f  t]rni,!j,s,  and  b^  .^^viiig  the  mind  free  j>lay.  Criti- 
cism slinuld  follow  its  nobler  instincts,  utterlv  refusinuf 
1)  lend  itself  to  social,  political,  or  theological  fashions 
or  forms,  utterly  refusing  to  be  influenced  by  pique  or 
liy  intellectual  vanity. 

A  good  reviewer,  with  a  wide  range  of  knowledge, 
c  >iiihiucs  comprehensiveness  of  views  and  catholicity 
<'f  ()[)iiiions,  sustained  by  subtle  instincts,  delicate 
tastes,  and  an  analytical  and  judicial  mind;  e})Igrain 
mid  paradox  ho  subordinates,  and  hyperbole  and  liy- 
Iiii'criticism  he  despises. 

lie  must  be  neither  a  good  lover  nor  a  good 
liatt'i'.  ]Io  must  have  wisdom  without  prejudices, 
|i<>\vrr  without  passion.  Candor  controls  his  pen.  ]lo 
is  hold  yet  modest;  severe,  if  necessary,  but  kind; 
Ht'ither  dogmatic  nor  moody,  neither  sentimental  nor 
cynical.  To  high-minded  unselfishness  is  added  a 
keen  and  correct  insioht  into  the  minds  and  motives 
ot  111011.     He  discovers  to  a  friend  his  faults,  praises 


» 


140 


CRITICISM. 


an  onriuv's  i^ood  work,  and  lu'vcr  talks  morel v  f ■  r 
ciYvct  nor  ])r()fcss(s  too  much.  Of  that  wliuh  Is; 
knows  nothinj^  he  says  nothing.  ]Ie  is  satisfied  th..t 
no  trade  based  on  cheating  or  cant  ever  is  pernni- 
ncntly  successful. 

His  knowli'dge  of  mankind  is  not  less  than  his 
knowledge  of  books.  He  analyzes  nature  as  skilfully 
as  literature.  Saint-Beuve  served  an  apprenticeship 
dissecting  the  bodies  of  dead  men  before  he  began  en 
the  writings  of  living  ones.  **  Je  n'ai  plus  qu'un  [)l;ii- 
sir,"  he  exclaims,  "j'analyse,  j'herborise,  je  suis  nii 
naturaliste  des  esprits.  (\>  (|ue  je  voudrais  constituii', 
c'est  riiistoirc  naturelle  litteraire." 

Matthews  remarks  on  Saint-Beuve  :  "It  is  safe  to 
sav  there  never  was  a  literarv  iudoe  who  was  moi'e 
indefatigable  in  collecting  the  materials  for  his  de- 
cisions, or  who  tried  more  earnestly  to  keep  his  mind 
from  all  bias,  and  from  everv  influence  which  could 
Interfere  in  the  slightest  degrcH^  with  the  clearness, 
vividness,  and  truthfulness  of  its  impression.  Hi- 
jealousy  of  himself  was  carried,  at  times,  to  an  almost 
ridiculous  extreme.  So  keeidy  was  he  sensible,  and 
so  morbidly  fearful  of  the  influenc(i  of  friendship  ujtoii 
one's  (ipinions,  that  he  sacrificed,  it  is  said,  some  ot  li'is 
pleasantest  intimacies  to  his  love  of  ini])artiality." 

In  measuring  character,  as  in  ev(>rything  else,  vro 
run  to  I  xtremes ;  and  often  our  foolish  and  versatiK' 
prejudices  change  objects  most  familiar.  Through 
the  eyes  of  love  sparkle  sunlight  and  prismatic  rain- 
bow hues.  The  color  of  our  glasses  tinges  all  we  see; 
from  our  collection  of  spectacKvs,  we  draw  and  adju-t 
the  ureen  Ljlass,  it^alouslv;  or  the  vellow  glass,  envv; 
or  the  red  glass,  revenue;  or  the  black  glass,  racor; 
turning  all  into  hate  and  hellisli  hues.  Hut  in  sp>(> 
of  our  blind  vagaries,  as  Pascal  savs,  "I'lionnne  nest 
Tii  ango  ni  bete  ;  et  le  malheur  veut  (^ue  qui  veut  faire 
lauiio  fait  la  bete." 

The  improbability  of  encountering  the  paragon  re- 


AUTHOR  AND   TUBLIC. 


141 


ks  merely  f  r 
luit  wliidi  1:' 
i  satisfied  tlu.t 
ver  is  pcruiti- 

less  than  ];:s 
lire  as  skilfully 
apprentieesli'.;) 
re  lie  be;j,an  eii 
)lus  (lu'un  pl:ii- 
,sc,  je  suis  nil 
irais  coiistituir, 

"It  is  safe  to 
who  was  more 
als  for  his  dc- 
)  keep  his  mind 
■e  which  <()uld 
the   clearness, 
ipression.     Hi^ 
es,  to  an  almost 
ic  sensible,  and 
friendship  upon 
laid,  some  ot  lils 
l)artiality." 
,thino-  else,  ye 
and   versatiK' 
lar.     Throu;^!i 
trisniatic  rain- 
i'j,es  all  we  sec: 
•aw  and  ad.)U->t 
»w  olass,  envy: 
k  <j,lass,  racHi': 
Hut  in  sp  ti' 
I'liomnie  n  tst 
(pii  veut  faiie 


the  paragon  re- 


viewer,  and  the  likelihood  of  meeting  with  more  flaw- 
liiiding  than  admiration,  should  teach  the  speaker  or 
w litcJ'  to  steel  his  sensihilities  and  sulxnit  patiently  to 
( riricisni.  If  wise  he  will  not  be  puH'ed  by  praise  nor 
ii  mil  I  dated  by  censure,  but  will  be  soberly  stimulated 
l)V  the  one,  and  taught  imj)rovenient  by  the  other. 
The  })ublic.  whose  attention  he  challenges,  have  their 
iij,T;ts  as  well  as  he,  and  if  cheated  by  false  j)retenses 
i.ut  of  their  time  or  money,  have  just  cause  for  com- 
]i!;uiit.  He  who  cries  truth  and  sells  only  its  iniita- 
tiiii,  is  a  charlatan,  and  the  |)eople  through  their  paid 
;!:;ent,  the  })ress,  have  the  right  to  denounce  him.  If 
1:0  lias  done  auijjht  worthv  of  fame,  let  him  rest  con- 
tint;  time  will  establish  it.  A  good  book  cannot  be 
liidden.  Bury  it  in  the  grave  with  its  author,  as  in 
the  case  of  Dictv's  Crctoisis,  and  an  eartlMpiake  will 
hnrst  the  sepulchre. 

That  a  book  lives,  though  condemned  by  its  critics, 
is  not  altogether  proof  of  unsound  judgment  on  the 
\rdvt  of  the  reviewer,  for  he  may  have  been  rigiit  as 
{■■>  l)oth  the  absolute  and  relative  merits  of  the  work, 
and  the  world  led  away  by  caprice,  jirejudice,  or  pas- 
sion. Hut  for  the  most  part,  and  in  the  long  run, 
time  and  the  world  are  to  be  trusted. 

"  I  know  of  no  tonic  more  useful  for  a  vounsj;  writer," 
says  lliguinson,  "than  to  read  carefully  in  the  Knglisli 
ri'vicws  of  seventy  or  eighty  years  ago  the  crushing 
(iltieisnis  on  nearlv  every  author  of  that  eixxh  who 
has  a(  hieved  lasting  fame."  Wordsworth  attempted 
to  (lis|»aragi!  (jroethe  without  having  read  him;  he 
sli'jiiiatized  Dryden's  music  ode  as  a  drunken  song, 
and  lield  ]:>urns'  ]iroductions  in  profound  conteuiiit. 
' 'n  ihi>  other  hand,  anndst  a  universal  hiss  of  scorn, 
UjKin  tlie  wheels  of  its  sarcasm  the  K'h'iihur</li  Jicviciv 
lii'i  ke  every  poetic  bone  in  Wordsworth's  body. 

1  hiziitt  has  often  been  jironounced  a  bloc  khead,  and 
Slirlh'v's  ])oetry  meaningless.  Hyron  called  Spenser 
:i 'hill  fi'Uow,  an<l  (Tiauier  cont(>mptible ;  a  poem  of 
^^  ordswortli's  was  his  avc  rsion.  When  it  first  appeared, 


'a': 


1)  '< 

III 


BU) 


142 


CRITICISil. 


Jaiw  Eyre  was  denounced  in  the  severest  terms  by  tlie 
QuarU'rhj  Rcvwir.  No  one  ever  aimed  at  severer  iin- 
jiartiality  than  Hallam,  but  in  s})ite  of  his  strictly 
judicial  mind,  his  admiration  was  often  too  much  for 
liis  discrimination. 

Patmore  published  a  severe  criticism  on  Sheridan 
Knowles'  Virf/iiiins,  which  lie  was  led  wholly  to  mod- 
ify after  having  seen  the  author.  When  an  old  and 
expert  critic  in  one  of  the  first  reviews  of  the  day 
feels  comptiUed  to  acknowledge  tliat  "the  Kul)sc(iuciit 
writings  of  this  distinguished  man  have  convinced  nu; 
that  my  first  impressions  of  his  talents  as  a  dramatic 
writer  did  him  manifest  injustice  in  some  particulais. 
and  fell  far  sliort  of  his  merit  in  others,"  what  trust 
can  be  placed  in  fiedulinus  i 

It  was  deemed  scarcely  safi;  at  one  time  for  t]\c 
preface  of  a  book  to  go  out  unarmed,  that  is,  without 
defiance  and  loud  denunciations  of  the  critics. 

Sodcrini  ordered  to  be  nuuic  for  him  liy  ^li<'liii' 1 
Angelo  a  statue,  which  when  doni;  was  perfect.  Nev- 
ertheless, Sodcrini  must  criticize;  the  nose  was  iu>t 
Grecian  enough.  Takhig  a  chisel  Angelo  ]>rcten(!ed 
to  altiT  it,  meanwhile  letting  fall  some  dust  which  he 
liad  concealed  in  his  hand,  but  in  realitv  not  touching- 
the  statue.  Sodcrini  was  charmed  that  his  opinion 
shoulrl  have  been  so  cheerfully  acted  upon,  and  extolKd 
the  nose  as  perfect.  In  like  manned'  Pope  pretendtd 
to  change  certain  woids  of  the  ///W^/ which  Lord  Hal- 
ifax had  criticized  when  Po})e  had  read  to  him  tlic 
poem,  to  the  infinite  gratification  t)f  his  critical 
lordshi[). 

Before  the  ti'iumphant  march  of  genius  critics  arc 
p(nverless.  Knowingly  they  never  atteni[)t  lo  write 
down  what  is  apt  to  become  popular.  Like  those  ot' 
journalism,  their  (;pini(ms  are  based  on  cowardice,  ami 
too  often  on  the  trembliii''-  timiditv  of  l<jnorance.  Sa\  s 
(Jillies,  the  Scotch  riiviewer,  "]\v  no  ellbrt  of  criticism 
could  we  imt  down  the  Lay  of  the  L<t4  M'niKtrrl.  J^wn 
the  ballad  of  Ilosabelle,  and  the  description  of  ]Melresc 


ORIOIXALTTY  AND  rLAGTARISM. 


143 


:;rms  by  tlu* 
sovL'ivr  iui- 
liis  strictly 
)o  much  tor 

311  Slicridau 
)lly  to  iiKxl- 
L  ail  old  aiul 
of  the  (lay 
)  sul)se(|uciit 
oiivhioc'cl  inu 
8  a  cirainatic 
)  particulars, 
"  what  trust 

bime  for  tho 
it  is,  without 
itics. 

1  by  i^licliacl 
,.rfcct.     Ncv- 
lose  was  not 
lo  prctondi'd 
list  which  lie 
not  touch iii^j; 
his  opiiiiiiii 
I,  and  cxtolhd 
pc  pi'ctcudtd 
ii  Lord  ll;d- 
l  to  him  till- 
his    critical 


III 


s  critics  nrc 


)t  to  wnti 


iikc  tliosr  "t 


twardicc.  am 


hranco 


S; 


ivs 


■t  of  criticism 


VIK 


1)11  O 


hrl.      Y 
f  ]Mcl 


rose 


hv  moonhght,  were  aknie  cnougli  to  keep  it  buoyant, 
iiotwitlistanding  tliat  the  poem  was  decidedly  at  vari- 
ance with  all  our  acknowledged  models." 

Just  before  Talfourd's  Ion  was  put  upon  the  stage 
n midst  the  most  boisterous  triumph,  the  critic's  place 
on  the  Athcmvitiii  was  taken  from  Chorlcy  and  given 
to  Darlcy,  who  used  the  axe  and  scalpel  with  such 
onsummate  dexterity  that  to  cut  books  to  pii>ces  be- 
came a  passion  with  him.  l^ut  in  writing  down  Lni 
J)ailey  made  a  mistake:  and  Chorlcy  the  supposed 
(ulpi'it  was  hooted  to  the  wall  by  an  exasperated 
]tul)!ic.  He  was  blackguarded  as  the  "chaw-bacon  of 
literature,"  "  a  worm,"  and  many  such  names.  "1 
cannot  call  to  mind  a  writer  more  largely  neglected, 
sni'ei't'd  at,  and  grudgingly  analyzeil  than  myself." 
complains  this  innocent  victim. 

A  ri^viewer  is  in  no  wise  backward  about  calling 
tlie  attention  of  his  reader  to  the  ])raise  bestowed  by 
liini  on  the  first  a]>pearance  of  what  subsc(iuently 
proves  a  successful  book.  Says  Chorley,  of  the 
Aflii mntiii,  ct'  Hawthorne's  writings,  "It  is  one  of 
]:iy  greatest  pleasures  as  a  journalist  to  recollect  that 
1  wa-'  the  first  who  had  the  honor  of  calling  attention 
to  (JK'sc  tales  when  they  ai>[)eared  in  the  form  of 
p'  riiJical  articles." 

Plagiarism  is  a  charge  that  has  b(>en  freely  bandied 
liv  i(^alous  authors  no  less  than  by  keen  critics. 
liyi. ill's  inspii'ations  of  natun%  A\'ordsworth  said,  were 
lint  (h'awn  from  nature,  but  from  his  Tiiifmi  Ahhry, 
aiisl  that  both  the  sentiment  and  style  of  the  third 
(aiifM  of  C]iihJ('  UiU'ohl  Wen.'  caught  from  him  and 
'ii'ia.tly  marred  in  the  reproduction.  It  is  a  delicate 
iiiatirr  for  one  writer  to  charge  aiiollu  r  Mitli  lack  of 
<  iT^inality,  wIkmi  the  most  original  of  thinkers,  for 
nine  tenths  of  all  their  S(»-ealK'd  original  thoughts, 
•Iraw  upon  the  past.  Bi'sides,  every  writer  has  the 
li'ilit  to  use  all  that  has  gone  before  him,  and  if  ho 
hut  a  I  Id  one  original  idea  to  eveiy  thousand  borrowed 


144 


CRITICISM. 


ideas  liis  labor  is  not  in  vain.  Human  cxpcrli-ncos 
are  fuiidecl,  and  every  man  that  a})pears  lias  a  li^lit 
to  a  siiare.  Savs  Bulwer,  "  from  that  which  time 
has  made  clas.sical  we  cannot  plagiarize." 

How  many  of  the  best  plots  and  plays  are  founded 
U[)on  classical  myiholooy  and  ancient  history  '.  From 
a  Grecian  leijond  of  Hercules  and  tho  IMi'inics  Swift 
derives  his  story  of  Gulliver.  Shakes[)eare  in  J//(/- 
smitiiicr  y/(/lifs  Dream  has  innumeral)le  touches  and 
travesties  like  that  from  Ovid's  metamor[)hoses  of 
Pvramus  and  Tliisbe.  l)e  Foe's  novel  is  founded  on 
the  ])ul)lished  vo3'ages  in  1712  of  Woodes  Kogers  and 
Edward  Cooke,  and  the  emlnyo  llobinst)n  Crusor;  mny 
be  seen  in  tho  Alexander  Selkirk  of  Cai)tain  Bur- 
ney's  narrative.  Sec  how  tho  story  of  Komeo  and 
Juliet  has  been  handled.  Shakc-speare  is  directly  in- 
debted for  it  to  Arthur  Brooke,  who  made  a  poetical 
version  of  IBolsteau's  novel  RJiomeo  and  ,fnh'dl<(.  Tlic 
main  incidents  were  obtained  by  Balsteau  from  a  story 
by  Luigi  da  Porto,  of  Vicenza,  called  La  (i'ndUlia, 
and  this  closely  resembles  the  Kplicxiaca  of  Ephesiu.s 
Xeno[)hon.  Under  the  title  of  Six  Old  I^hijjn  on  iHiich 
Niukfi<j)('arc  Foinidvd  his  Comedies  published  by  S. 
Li'acroft,  of  Charing  Cross,  was  one  of  the  samo 
name  from  which  the  plot  of  Tamin;/  ffie  Shrew  was 
taken,  the  induction  being  borrowed  from  Heuteru^i' 
Jierinii  Jiiir<jinid. 

Few  writers  indeed  are  caught  pursuing  the  oppiv 
site  course,  that  of  attributing  their  own  ideas  to 
others,  like  Xenoplion,  who  makes  Socrates,  his  mas- 
ter, the  mouth-piece  for  many  of  his  own  conceptions. 


«  t 


Style,  which  is  the  first  thing  an  incxperienc(  d 
writer  thinks  of.  and  whi<  h  should  be  the  last,  is  oft*  u 
made  a  handle  for  adverse  criticism  when  all  else  fails. 
A  style  consistent  with  the  serious  dignity  of  tin;  suh- 
ject  may  be  sneered  at  as  Johnsonian,  or  if  it  be  nat 
ural  and  easy,  then  it  is  cheap  Engli.sh.  In  (juestious 
of  syntax,  where  the   best  authorities  do  not  aurie, 


STYLE. 


115 


rjxpcrK'nces 
las  a  li.^lit 
,vlucli  tinio 

[irc  founded 


IV 


Fr( 


tm 


;uiks   Swift 
ire   in   Mhl- 
,oucht'S  and 
orp] loses  ot' 
founded  on 
'Uo;j;ers  and 
Crusoe  may 
aptain   Bur- 
]von\eo  and 
;  directly  in- 
le  a  poi'tical 
nllcftd.     The 
from  a  story 
Jm    (llidktia, 
of  Epliosius 

slied  by  S. 
)f  the  sanio 
e  Slnrw  was 
u  lleuterus' 

iv^  tlic  opi'o- 
iwn  ideas  to 
ites,  his  mas- 


concel 


itionr' 


Inexpi'nenci  il 

last,  isoftrii 

all  else  fails. 

tvof  the  Hul>- 

if  it  IxMiat- 

In  (juestioiis 

0  not  ivn\c, 


-4 


nnd  the  writer  is  obliged  to  employ  terms  sanctioned 
1)V  one  or  the  other,  whichever  course  he  takes  lays 
him  open  to  the  charge  of  solecism.  In  such  hands 
warrantable  hyperbole  is  gross  exaggeration,  and 
authorized  antithesis,  epigram,  and  metaphor,  glaring 
absurdities. 

Style  is  in  a  measure  to  letters  what  dress  is  to  the 
hddv  Men  and  women  are  more  attractive  wlieii 
tastt 'fully  attired  than  when  clothed  in  rags  or  ill- 
fitting  garments;  but  as  compared  with  the  body,  soul, 
ur  life  of  the  person,  dress  is  insignificant.  So  it  is 
with  literary  composition.  Facts  are  more  pleasing 
when  adorned  with  elegant  diction  ;  but  the  arransjje- 
iiirnt  of  the  words  in  which  ideas  arc  chtthed  is  of 
little  moment  beside  the  magnitude  and  truthfulness 
of  the  naked  fact.  Nevertheless,  say  what  we  will  of 
styli'  in  letters  or  in  dress,  it  will  have  its  influence, 
Bejuity  and  symmetry  appeal  to  the  mind  not  less 
stmiigly  than  truth  and  logic.  Dress  is  admirable 
111)  k'ss  than  merit.  Good  clothes  and  a  pleasing  style 
(ujitivate  the  multitude  more  than  do  shabby  virtue 
or  liiiiiirly  truths. 

Again,  elegance  and  comfort  in  dress  are  greatly  to 
1)0  dei^ired  ;  but  what  shaU  we  say  of  him  who  all  day, 
and  every  day,  is  conscious  of  his  attire,  who  camK)t 
lift  liis  mind  above  the  cut  of  his  coat  or  the  fit  of  his 
liiiiits;  who  thinks  and  si)eaks  only  of  his  raiment, 
and  who  works  or  |)lays  chiefly  for  the  purpose  of 
ilisplayiiig  his  dress  i  In  the  various  walks  of  life 
tliriv  are  men  who  live  by  style;  there  are  authors 
wlio^r  .iiiihition  and  efforts  are  all  for  style  ;  take  from 
tlicir  writings  style,  and  tln're  is  nothing  left. 

Tiiuc  was  when  the  ruler  prescri'ietl  the  kind  and 
'|uality  of  dress  each  class  should  wear,  the  kind  and 
Mil  ili;  V  of  food  each  cdass  should  eat.  In  the  eves  of 
'  iitiiisiii,  firm  was  everything  in  those  davs.  With 
•I'Miiisoii  and  Dryden  the  manner  was  no  less  import- 
ant llian  the  matter.  While  we  of  this  latter-day 
and  h  ss  tiammell(>d  literature  do  not  despise  rhythm 

USSAYS  AMI    MlSCKLLANY       10 


146 


CRITICISM. 


or  lightly  esteem  beauty  in  the  arrangement  of  \vor(]s, 
sentiment  and  truth  we  deem  of  far  higher  importance. 
Chaste  imagery  we  admire,  but  clearness  and  eneigy 
are  indispensable.  The  truly  sublime  swallows  ail 
petty  adornments. 

Style  is,  however,  something  more  than  dress.  It 
is  not  the  adaptation  of  thought  to  expression,  nor 
the  adaptation  of  expression  to  thought.  Style  u 
thought  itself;  expression  is  the  man;  it  is  character, 
as  well  as  cut  of  clothes  and  carriage.  Qualities  of 
mind,  form  of  physique,  and  every  result  of  environ- 
ment, no  less  than  the  blaze  of  words  lighted  by 
thought,  generate  style,  and  are  in  turn  moulded  by 
style.  The  attitude  of  the  body  under  cogitation  is 
in  a  measure  the  outward  or  physical  expression  of 
thought.  Says  La  Brujere,  "  II  n'y  a  rien  de  si  deiju 
de  si  simple,  et  do  si  imperceptible,  oii  il  n'entre  des 
maniercs  qui  nous  decelent.  Un  sot  n'entre,  ni  iie 
sort,  ni  ne  s'assied.  ni  ne  se  love,  ni  ne  se  talt,  ni  n'ost 
sur  Ics  jambes,  eomme  un  homme  d'esprit."  "  Tlie 
style  of  an  author  should  be  the  image  of  his  mind," 
observes  (^ribbon,  "but  the  choice  and  command  of 
language  is  the  fruit  of  exercise.  Many  experiments 
were  made  before  I  could  hit  the  middle  tone  between 
a  dull  chronicle  and  a  rhetorical  declamation." 

A  true  and  natural  style  is  the  product  of  birth, 
though  it  may  be  modified  by  education.  It  camint 
be  acquired  any  more  than  blood  or  brains.  With  tlic 
p]>ysical  and  intellectual  man,  it  may  be  refined  l»y 
culture;  but  it  must  be  as  the  unfolding  of  a  germ,  as 
the  devek)pment  of  an  innate  quality,  and  not  as  a 
creation  or  an  adoption  ;  else  it  is  not  style  the  man, 
but  style  the  appearance,  style  the  imitation.  "  In 
honnnc  qui  ecrit  bien,"  says  Montesqueieu,  "n'eciit 
pas  connne  on  dcrit ;  mais  connne  il  ecrit ;  et  c'est 
souvent  en  parlant  mal  qu'il  parle  bien."  Suppose 
two  writers  should  attempt  to  exchange  their  stylo, 
that  of  both  would  be  ruined.  It  would  be  worse 
than  exchanging  coats;  the  probability  is  that  one 


STRONG  SIMPLICITY. 


147 


would  not  fit  the  other.  Tyndall's  deHcate  forms  of 
beauty,  and  Huxley's  incisive  wit  and  vivid  pictur- 
csqueness,  would  not  suit  the  plain  direct  forma  of 
Darwin,  whose  thoughts  spread  themselves  out  on 
paper  in  such  logical  sequence  and  with  such  effective- 
ness, that  from  a  mere  statement  of  the  facts  arise 
tlio  clearest  conclusions. 

Tlicre  are  natural  writers  and  there  are  artificial 
writers.  They  are  known  by  their  works.  Strong 
is  simplicity;  strong  the  power  of  truthful  words  to 
move  1  All  great  poets,  Homer,  Horace,  ^schylus, 
Sliakespeare,  Tennyson,  exercised  this  charmhig 
power.  The  wisest  of  the  ancients,  feeling  its  superior 
strength  and  having  it  not,  affected  it.  Studied  sim- 
plicity of  style  seems  to  have  been  the  effort  of  Plato. 
For  we  are  assured  that  the  sentences  which  flow  so 
easily,  and  were  apparently  flung  off  nirrente  calamo, 
were,  indeed,  the  result  of  prolonged  elaboration. 
Sainte-Beuve  thanked  the  necessity  which  forced  him 
froin  his  ingrained  mannerism  into  a  style  of  strong 
simplicity  which  every  one  could  understand. 


til 


is 


CHAPTER  VII. 

WORK. 

Get  leave  to  work 
In  this  world,  'ti.:i  tliu  l)i;.st  yon  get  at  all; 
ForCJotl,  in  cursing,  gives  us  huttor  gifis 
Tiian  men  iu  benediction.     <!od  say.s  "  Sweat 
For  forcheails;"  men  say  "crowns";  and  so  we  are  crowned. 
Ay,  gashed  by  sonic  toriiicnting  circle  of  steel 
Wliieli  snaps  with  a  secret  spring.     «ict  work;  get  work; 
Be  sure  'tia  better  thu  a  what  you  work  to  got. 

—Mrii  Browninj. 

The  neces.sity  to  labor  is  generally  reL^ardcd  ast 
an  evil;  the  first  and  sum  of  evils;  ottspriii.'' 
of  the  primal  curse,  spawn  of  Adamic  transgres- 
sion, born  of  the  serpent  which  envenoms  all, 
which  cradles  humanity  in  thistles  and  thorns,  aii<l 
clothes  us  in  (jallin*jj  fetters,  to  be  w^)rn  'midst  sor- 
row  and  sweat  until  the  body  returns  to  dust.  It  is 
the  severest  punishment  divine  vengeance  can  con- 
jure for  the  disobedient,  the  heaviest  infliction  al- 
mighty power  may  lay  U})on  the  seed  of  woman  fur 
her  sin  of  curiosity.  And  the  curse  of  curses,  Cain's 
curse,  was  that  he  should  labor  and  reap  no  reward. 

These  precepts  accord  with  our  earliest  impressions 
of  labor.  The  child  abhors  his  task.  It  is  neither 
att'ection,  food,  nor  any  good  gift  of  God  ;  an<l  in- 
stinctively he  feels  that  it  is  not.  It  is  a  penalty  ho 
must  pay,  not  having  committed  any  crime  ;  a  slavery 
he  must  undergo,  though  free-born.  Even  brutes 
blush,  and  hang  their  heads,  when  harnessed  to  man's 
infelicities. 

Enjoyment  alone  the  creatures  of  a  beneficent  crea- 
tor claim  as  their  birthright.  Thercjfore  call  \t 
pleasure  and  the  exercise  is  easy;  wherc^as  pleasni  ' 
itself  is  painful  if  done  as  duty.  In  childhood,  hov, 
much  of  exertion  and   fatigue  we  lauuhinglv  undergo 

(148, 


rLEASUUABLE,   VS.   ENFORCED  LABOR. 


149 


are  crowned, 
t  work; 
Irowninj. 

ogardcd   a;^ 

transgrcK- 
enoms    all, 
tlionis,  and 
'midst  sor- 
lust.     It  U 
c  can  con- 
Uotion  al- 
wouian  for 
SOS,  Cain's 
no  reward, 
impressions 
is  ncitlu>v 
d  ;  and   in- 
penalty  lu' 
) ;  a  slavery 
veil  brutes 
3d  to  man's 

ficent  crea- 
tre  call  it 
'as  pleasut" 
lliood,  how 
ly  underg ) 

(148/ 


in  the  name  of  fun ;  how  intolerably  dull  and  spirit- 
crushing  the  slight  labor-lesson  our  kind  parent  gives 
us  to  learn.  For  the  child  at  play  winter  has  ne  eokl, 
nor  is  the  longest,  hottest  summer's  day  wearisome; 
hut  over  the  light  untinished  task  the  songs  of  birds 
St  like  heavily  upon  the  ear,  the  fresh,  fragrant  breath 
of  lieaven  is  hateful,  and  the  joyful  sun-rays  stinging 
Hforpions. 

In  grown-up  children  wo  see  drawn  the  same  dis- 
tinctions. With  what  nervous  delight  the  delicate 
young  woman  dances  the  dark  hours  through,  when, 
wove  those  midnight  whirls  and  ambles  necessary  or 
useful,  how  terrible  the  infliction!  Happy  as  a 
beaver  the  young  man  rises  before  day  for  a  ten-mile 
tiauip  over  the  hills  for  a  possible  shot  at  a  deer, 
wIru,  did  his  breakfast  every  morning  depend  upon 
siiuiliU'  early  and  severe  exertion,  better  die  at  once 
than  lvce[)  up  life  at  such  a  cost.  Even  old,  prosaic, 
})ia(tical  men,  and  humdrum  women,  cheerful  as 
(inkling  barn-fowl,  every  summer  leave  their  home 
(Dinfoits,  their  clean  carpets  and  soft  beds,  their  car- 
iia;j;e,  garden,  and  well-stored  larder,  their  cosey 
|)ail(tr  and  cool  verandah,  and  go  into  voluntary 
exile,  become  savage  or  at  least  sylvan  while  encamp- 
iiiH'  under  the  chaparral  or  buckeye,  eating  indigesti- 
ble food,  breathing  the  blistering  air,  and  sweltering 
t]nou;4h  the  shelterless  day  only  at  night  to  stretch 
themselves  with  no  small  show  of  satisfaction  upon 
tlie  tlea-and-fever-breoding  earth,  there  to  wait  the 
slow  approach  of  sloop,  while  the  mosquito's  soft 
soprano  alternates  with  the  loud  contralto  of  the 
sviiiiJathctic  frojx.  Wore  this  all  done  from  necessitv, 
what  a  wail  would  go  heavenward  over  the  bitterness 
of  tlieir  lot.  So  by  the  simple  name  of  sport  do  we 
sweoteu  the  very  dregs  of  drudgery. 

Not  only  does  the  labor  we  delight  in  physic  pain, 
but  such  effort  ceases  to  be  labor  in  the  sense  here 
used;  that  is,  as  a  burden  to  be  borne.  Pleasures 
pall,  however,  showing  that  therein  we  may  not  seek 


:5, 


Ml;  : 


It 


160 


WORK. 


the  highest  good ;  and  men  are  sometimes  driven  to 
do  tilings  useful  through  sheer  ennui ;  activity  then 
becomes  delightful,  and  the  necessity  being  removed, 
it  falls  not  under  the  curse;  there  are  some  whom 
wealth  and  luxury  cannot  wholly  debase. 

In  all  industry,  in  commerce,  agriculture,  and  man- 
ufactures; in  mechanical  or  intellectual  pursuits,  in 
education  and  religion;  by  all  mankind,  throughout  all 
ages,  it  seems  to  have  been  tacitly  implied  that,  how- 
ever beneficial  the  result  of  labor,  work  per  se  is  a 
curse.  It  is  something  to  be  deplored;  something 
to  be  endured,  rewarded ;  and  it  is  performed,  for  tln' 
most  part,  in  the  hope  and  endeavor  of  ultimate  relit  f 
from  it.  Who  has  not  this  hope,  and  what  would  life 
be  without  it?  How  often  we  bear  said,  "When  I 
have  so  nmch  money,  when  my  new  house  is  built, 
my  farm  paid  for,  my  daughters  educated,  my  sons 
settled,  I  will  no  longer  tod  in  this  fashion ;  I  will 
rest;  I  will  fling  care  to  the  winds,  release  brain, 
nerves,  and  muscles  from  their  life-long  tension,  take 
a  free  look  upward  and  outward,  and  live  a  little  be- 
fore I  die."  Alas!  how  seldom  is  this  effected;  or  if 
it  be,  how  laborious  this  inactive  waiting  for  death  I 

Anticipations  are  almost  always  more  enjoyal)ii' 
than  realizations.  The  pleasures  of  hope  enter  into 
labor  to  lighten  it  and  relieve  its  hard  lot  with  rose- 
colored  vistas.  One  shoulders  a  shovel,  another  a  hod, 
and  early  marches  to  melancholy  exercise,  foregoing 
awhile  the  c(Mnpanionable  pipe  at  the  corner  grocery, 
in  the  expectation  of  cou])ling  it  later  with  a  double 
reward.  The  merchant  finds  in  his  profit  a  delightful 
incentive  to  buying  and  selling.  Nothing  is  sooiu  r 
suspected  in  a  stranger  than  a  display  of  disintercst(  d 
benevolence.  The  pioneer  has  a  wider  object  in  view, 
when  planting  a  home  in  the  forest,  than  mere  deliglt 
in  swinging  an  axe  and  seeing  the  chips  fly.  ClcariiiL]j 
the  ground,  and  ploughing,  and  planting  arc  but  the 
paths  to  that  object. 

While  the  aim  sweetens  the  pursuit,  it  seldom  does 


a 


TlIK    CURSE  OF  IT. 


151 


sd  sufficiently  to  render  it  desirable.  Will  anyone 
wuutiiiL''  a  house  to  shelter  his  family  say  to  himself, 
it  is  better  for  me  to  build  it  than  that  I  should  be 
saved  the  trouble?  Will  anyone  desiring  a  fortune 
wliicli  sliall  give  him  rest  for  the  remainder  of  his  life, 
which  shall  give  him  leisure  for  the  pursuit  of  refining 
tilts  and  pleasures,  which  shall  give  him  the  means  of 
milking  ha[)|)y  those  he  loves,  of  giving  to  the  poor, 
of  building  schools  and  churclics — will  he  say,  better 
f  >r  me  to  rack  my  brain  and  ply  my  fingers  early  in 
tli(^  morning  and  late  into  the  night,  day  after  day  for 
twenty  en-  forty  years,  meanwhile  kec[)ing  my  feet  to 
the  treadmill,  my  eyes  to  the  sordid  oceu[»ation  (,f 
nioiiey-making,  until  with  old  age  is  frozen  every  gen- 
erous impulse,  shutting  forever  from  my  understand- 
ing; all  the  God-given  beauties  and  benefits  that  han*j' 
like  a  starry  canopy  above  my  head  to  the  very  licm- 
iiiing  of  my  horizon;  will  he  say,  better  for  me  to 
cm  lure  all  this,  to  sacrifice  all  this,  and  that,  too, 
while  attended  by  a  hundred  necessary  risks  and  ven- 
tures, any  one  of  which  may  wreck  all,  than  to  find 
fortune  ready-made,  with  a  lifetime  before  me  in 
which  to  enjoy  it? 

Or  if  his  soul  hungers  for  the  higher  good,  if,  in- 
ditferent  to  wealth  and  social  distinction,  tlioughts  of 
tlu!  great  Wiiat  antl  Whence  and  Whither  urge  him 
to  ;i  more  defined  understanding  of  his  being  and  sur- 
roundings, and  if,  without  the  laborious  accumulating 
and  analyzing  of  experiences,  without  days  of  nervous 
investigating  and  long  niglits  of  mental  strain,  scores 
(if  years  of  the  severest  study  might  be  overleaped, 
uiid  the  youth  know  as  the  sage, — would  he  not  be  a 
(l.tic,  an  idiot,  to  refuse  any  Aladdin-lamp  assistance, 
on  tlie  ground  that  the  sore  travail  of  knowledge  was 
itself  a  blessing,  the  intellectual  and  moral  faculties 
thus  aroused  and  exercised  and  developed,  but  other- 
wist?  non- existent  or  dormant,  being  more  l)eneficial 
than  Minerva-births  or  other  spontaneous  results? 


182 


UORK. 


;   1 


This  daily  dead-lift  of  labor  tliat  walls  every  avenue 
of  progiess,  tliat  liaiigs  like  Dantiaii  darkness  ovt  i' 
ev(!ry  cli'ort  of  as})iring  intelligence,  that  lays  ini-xor- 
ably  its  burden  upon  the  shoulder  alike  of  o[)erative. 
artisan,  and  clerk,  of  merchant  and  manufacturer,  of 
student  and  professor,  of  lawyer,  doctor,  and  pn^acher — 
will  anyone  say  that  it  is  a  good  thing,  something  hi 
and  of  itself  to  be  desired  ? 

In  a  word,  is  not  labor  regarded  by  mankind  gener- 
ally if  not  an  absolute  curse,  yet  less  a  blessing  than 
the  absence  of  its  necessity  ? 

Most  assuredly. 

And  yet  mankind  is  wrong.  Else  the  creator  is  a 
merciless  tyrant,  and  creation  a  botch,  or  this  great 
a<;onv'  of  our  existence  is  a  blessing. 

I  know  that  one  step  farther  carries  our  investiga- 
tion beyontl  its  depths,  and  I  do  not  propose  to  sj)ec- 
ulate.  1  wish  to  confine  myself  to  the  plainest,  simplest 
view  of  the  case,  the  proximate  and  practical  ])arts  of 
these  life-embracing  anomalies  being  more  than  suffi- 
cient to  occujjy  all  our  attention. 

It  requires  no  great  keenness  of  observation,  what- 
ever one's  creed  or  ethical  code  may  be  as  to  causations 
and  consequences,  to  see  that  nature  is  our  master, 
that  she  rules  us  with  an  iron  hand,  by  unalterable 
laws,  to  which  it  behooves  us  humbly  to  conform  the 
conduct  of  our  lives.  Nature  is  inexorable.  Obey 
her,  and  she  is  kind ;  throw  off  allegiance,  and  she  is 
mercilessly  cruel.  Whether  you  know,  or  do  not  care 
to  know,  or  forget,  break  one  of  the  least  of  her  laws 
and  you  suffer,  and  in  proportion  to  the  sin.  Only 
the  savage  sees  smiles  and  frowns  in  nature  ;  the  phil- 
osopher fails  to  discover  wherein  the  slightest  par- 
tiality has  ever  been  shown  a  votary,  the  slightest 
sentiment,  or  favoritism,  or  interposition,  or  yielding 
under  supplication.  Rain  falls  upon  the  just  and  tlu' 
unjust;  fire  burns  God's  martyr  as  surely  as  Satan's 
servant.     If  I  overreach  the  precipice  too  far  in  my 


TllK  NKCE.S.SI1Y  OF  IT. 


15.1 


( tfoit  to  rosfUo  a  f't'llow-lu'iiii^,  I  am  dasliod  in  picci  s 
.IS  sunly  as  if  I  fall  in  atteiiiptiiig  iwciigt!  u[uni  an 
ciiciiiy. 

Ill  naturo  man  finds  his  countorpart ;  slicj  is  our 
>4r(  at  ixaniplf!  and  teaclicr.  If  you  would  know  tlic 
|iiici'  of  liappincss,  jjo  to  naturo;  she  will  spnatl  before 
\-iAi  a  tru(!  tataloguo  of  r('\vard.s  and  punishments.  To 
llic  pinv.st  codis  of  morality  crueds  are  by  no  means 
essential.  Kvt  ti  reli»»ion  asks  not  of  man  labor  or 
siiciifiee  for  nothing,  and  nature  asks  not  this.  Of 
iiiitureand  the  sublimcst  selfishness  the  liiglust  ethics 
uie  built. 

J^efore  labor  in  any  sense  can  bo  called  a  curse,  the 
(coiinniv  of  nature  must  l)e  changed,  or  the  universe 
he  (idle<l  a  curse.  All  that  have  beint;  labor,  and  bv 
lalioi  all  was  made  that  exists.  Nature  grows  under 
ivihnidant  eneryv,  with  here  and  there  convulsive 
llirocs, — excesses  wliich  sent  worlds  a-whirlinu'  into 
^|lil(•(■  and  there  maintains  then>,  desi)ite  all  stiiving 
\\>r  reunion,  for  rest.  This  s<  :  ki'ig  is  the  n:)rmal  con- 
dition of  all'airs;  for  resti*r1v  1  ings  a  desire  for  fresh 
actixity.  Bodies  in  motion  labor  to  be  quiet;  bodies 
at  rest  labor  to  be  in  motion. 

I  lest  is  found  in  constant  or  varied  activity.  Such 
is  iiatuie's  rest,  (iod's  rest,  and  man's  only  rest;  night 
liriii^s  with  it  a  restoration  of  the  forces  which  have 
hiMii  expended  during  day.  Death  is  called  the 
absolute  repose,  yet  that  most  dreaded  quietude  can- 
nut  reet  for  rotting.      It  also  is  merely  transmutation. 

By  work  tiie  universe  is,  and  man.  Force  is  all 
lircvading,  in  our  bodies  and  without;  by  it  instinct 
is  and  intellect,  mind  is  made,  and  soul  inq>lanted. 
Xiitu re  hinges  on  it;  bv  it  winds  blow,  and  the  fer- 
tiliziiig  moisture  is  lifted  from  the  ocean  and  diopped 
uiKiii  the  hills;  by  it  grass  grows,  flowers  blooni;  and 
the  sunbeam  enters  my  window,  else  how  without 
Wdik  shoukl  it  have  come  so  far  to  greet  me.  The 
mind  eainiot  conceive  of  a  state  of  things  whendn 
all  wiis  absolute  inactivity,  breathh;oa  immobility,  rigid 


1 

s   ' 

I 

;:■;, 

.;■ 

. 

'           ,■ 

15i 


WORK. 


rest.     The  tendency  of  t]iin<i,s  is  toward  an  unattain- 
jil)lo  equilibrium.      Unrest  alone  is  eternal. 

So  lahor  is  the  normal  condition  of  man  as  of 
nature,  both  by  will  and  from  necessity.  His  inherent 
cni!ri;y  is  significant  of  that  destiny.  If  he  wills  not 
to  labor,  necessity  drives  him  to  it;  if  necessity  is 
absent,  the  spirit  of  good  or  the  demon  of  evil  stirs 
him  to  the  accomplishnuait  of  he  knows  not  what. 
Beyond  the  vista  of  absolute  rest  lies  chaos. 

The  most  primitive  and  simple  existence  cannot  be 
maintained  without  work.  The  savage  nmst  dig 
roots,  pluck  fruit,  catch  fisli,  or  pursue  gan)e.  He 
nmst  construct  a  shelter  against  the  storm  and  tlic 
insecurities  of  night,  seek  covering  against  the  cold, 
and  ])r(>ptire  weapons  for  onslaught  upon  wild  beasts 
or  defence  against  hostile  neighbors. 

Disliking  the  task  the  male  transfers  it  chiefly  to 
wives  and  slaves,  and  abandons  himself  to  indolent 
repose,  or  to  agreeable  pastime,  to  feats  of  strength 
and  valor,  flattering  to  his  conceit,  and  pleasing  to 
his  appetites.  In  the  tropics  an  over-indulgent  natme 
fosters  this  indulgence  to  excess.  Toward  the  arctic 
a  harsher  clime  calls  for  greater  exertion,  especially 
during  certain  seasons,  in  order  to  provide  food,  fiirl, 
and  other  necessaries  for  the  long  winter.  The  alter- 
nate rest  and  desultt^ry  labor  are  alike  marred  by 
risks  and  lKU'dshi[)s. 

In  the  temperate  zone  man  is  relieved  from  many 
of  thi^so  impediments  and  incubi,  with  the  attendant 
spasmodic  exertion  and  enervating  relaxation,  l^otli 
mind  and  body  n^spond  to  the  liberation  by  revel- 
ing in  the  balmy  and  n^freshing  atmosphere.  AVitli 
greater  connnand  of  S(>lf  comes  wider  enjoyment  of 
resources.  Herein  lies  the  precious  gift  from  l!,o 
prudently  restrained  generosity  of  nature,  for  produi  ts 
abound  here  on  soil  and  in  water,  sufticient  to  permit 
the  savage  to  enjoy  freely  the  dolcc  far  n'tcnte,  as  iu- 


TIIE  PLEASURE  OF  IT. 


155 


stancctl  bv  tlio  iiborijjjiues  of  America  and  the  nomads 
lit"  tlie  Asiatic  plains. 

Nature  is  not  exacting.  Slie  works  incessantly  for 
lur  children,  and  demands  as  a  rule  only  a  wlight  ex- 
i  rtlon  on  their  part  to  sustain  the  machinery  of  mind 
iiiul  body  set  in  motion  by  lierself;  but  she  imj)lants 
loiij^iiigs  and  offers  rewards  for  greater  performance; 
and  to  tlicse  have  responded  best  the  less  weighted  or 
bciiuiiibed  energies  of  temperate  regions. 

A'anity  leads  to  the  quest  for  ornament  and  im- 
proved covering.  The  hostility  of  neighbors,  prompted 
liv  sex  jealousy,  greed,  or  pugnacity,  calls  not  alone 
t  r  weapons,  but  for  fortifications,  military  bodies  and 
(ir;j,anizod  communities.  Thus  comes  good  from  evil. 
Tlio  gathering  of  large  masses  at  one  point,  within 
wall.'d  camps,  tended  natunilly  to  the  develoi>ment  of 
ii^ricultural  and  other  industries.  The  inconvenience 
n\'  every  man  attending  to  every  duty  Kd  to  rapid 
sululivision  of  labor,  with  a  consequently  gri'ater 
offrctiveness  in  each  branch,  and  to  the  unfolding  of 
traiJe,  which, reaching  in  time  to  distant  lands,  brought 
aUniit  elevating  intercourse  and  exchange  of  ideas 
and  resources. 

Xot  until  Adam  was  driven  from  his  paradisiacal 
garden  could  he  or  his  children  have  set  out  on  a 
piogressional  journey.  Perfect  man  is  uniittcd  for  an 
iiiqurfirt  world;  and  imperfcjct  man  in  paradise,  it 
seems,  proved  a  failure. 

Among  advanced  peoples  most  of  the  labor  is  often 
inclosed  not  by  nature  but  by  expanding  civiii/a- 
tieii,  which  germinates  in  our  passions  and  aspii-a- 
tious.  Herein  the  energy  of  progressive  spirits  and 
leaders  asserts  its  influence  from  the  earliest  stau:e, 
111  setting  example  and  giving  proper  direction  to 
tllorts.  The  aptitude  of  one  inventive  mind,  and 
Ills  consequent  success  in  attracting  admiration  or 
attention,  create  emulation  in  others;  and  so  with 
superior  dress,  comforts,  and  enjoynuMits. 

Ill  time  is  reached  a   stage  when   the   majority, 


i 


r 


r 


!  ? 


ik.,  n 


ti 


156 


WORK. 


throusjjli  organized  govt'rmnont,  imposes  as  obligation 
the  additional  labor  demanded  bv  the  condition  of 
their  culture.  The  man,  who  might  be  content  witli 
the  bare  cover,  and  the  siHUitaneous  products  of  the 
soil,  is  ordered  by  statutes  and  bv  the  more  imposing 
mandates  of  society,  under  pain  of  disgrace  and  other 
punishment,  to  provide  decent  chjthing,  food,  and 
shelter  for  himself  and  family,  and  to  educate  his 
children.  Thus  is  laid  upon  civilized  males  a  mani- 
fold heavier  burden  than  upon  the  savage. 

Fortunately  many  attributes  attend  to  lighten  the 
weight  and  sweeten  the  toil.  The  potency  of  the  re- 
ward is  recognized.  There  is  also  inducen)ent  in  the 
more  assured  enjoyment  of  }»r(>})erty  and  life,  by 
means  of  airriculture  and  other  institutions  of  settled 
life.  Acquired  taste  for  improvements  lends  s])urs  tt» 
their  attainment.  Habit  assists  to  render  labor  en- 
durable, and  interesting,  and  growing  skill  give  ease 
to  performance.  Mere  motion  and  exercise  furnish 
incentive  to  deeds,  to  improving  intercourse,  to  lofty 
aspirations.  There  is  pleasure  in  the  cliase,  and  ex 
ercise  connected  with  the  game,  aside  from  the  pur- 
suit itself.  The  man  soon  turns  from  his  puerile 
pastime  to  sterner  sport  or  more  sedate  entertain- 
nunt,  yet  he  still  feels  animated  by  the  action  its(  It". 
He  evin  uid)ibes  a  preference  for  occupations  lea(Hng 
to  a  ])ractical  and  substantial  end,  the  unprotitnl)K' 
gn)wing  distasteful.  Many  take  a  decided  delight  in 
ganlening,  building,  repairing,  as  comj)arcd  witli 
siestas,  pronjenades,  and  sjjorts.  How  irksome  to 
many  is  the  duml)-bell  performance,  as  contrasted 
with  tjie  doubly  useful  wood-chopi)ing  has  been  illus- 
trated by  the  great  English  j)remier.  Some  find  pleas- 
ure in  riding  when  connected  with  atock-raisinu  or 

nie 


other  useful 


pr 


puqios(> 
■eter  scientitic  1 


a,  others  for  itself  alone.     So 


ks  to 


novels, 


As  in  play,  labor  can  become  moat  pleasing  when 
not  entirely  compulsory,  and  herein  lies  the  stronj:- 
ost  of  motives,  aside  from  the  reward,  for  the  eauir 


THE  BLESSINf}  OF  IT, 


157 


]iprsovorancc  of  fanners,  merchants,  and  other  solf- 
ilcpciicUjnt  ('hisses  and  employers.  They  are  in  a 
iiit'iisure  obliged  to  earn  a  livelihood,  but  ean  at  least 
rtL;uhite  operations  to  their  taste  and  perha[)s  to  their 
cijiivcnience.  This  soothing  element  is  absent  among 
tli<"  great  mass  of  employers,  and  forms  one  of  the 
iiiiiin  causes  for  dislike  to  labor.  The  restraint  on 
time,  inclination,  and  procedure  is  objectionable.  It 
partakes  of  slavery,  though  w.untarily  contracted. 
No  less  distasteful  is  the  idea  that  only  a  })ortion  of 
tlitir  efforts  is  for  personal  benefit  in  the  form  of 
wa'n  s.  the  rest  being  absorbed  bv  another.  Their 
liiilin  lies  chiefly  in  the  wages,  to  be  used  for  inde- 
l»rii(l('nt  labor,  pastime,  or  rest.  Additional  relief 
iiikI  incentive  are  brought  by  the  exciting  effect  of 
ri\;thy.  Competition  lends  zest  to  the  consideration 
that,  as  work  is  unavoidable,  it  may  best  be  performed 
with  s|»irit.  The  desire  to  complete  a  task  is  an  im- 
pulse, and  still  more  so  is  the  ambition  to  do  it 
wtll.  perhaps  to  excel  others  in  perfection  as  well  as 
siHcil.  Tliis  streiiijthens  the  wish  to  learn,  to  become 
skilful,  and  to  improve  the  limbs  and  senses  by  means 
ot"  which  the  work  is  accomplished. 

After  all  it  is  in  work  itself,  rather  than  in  the  ac- 
(•i'iii|ilished  result,  that  the  true  benefit  of  labor  lies. 
\Vr  have  been  wrongly  taught;  nor  is  this  the  oidy 
iii-;taiic(!  wherein  our  teachers  need  instructing. 

It  is  evident  that  by  exercise  organs  and  faculties 
aliiiit'  (h'velop.  Tliis  is  the  central  principle;  alike  in 
uiTucisal  evolution  and  in  in<lividual  unfolding.  Oi-- 
i.ni^  and  organisms  imj)rove  according  to  use.  The 
hla;k-<niith  iloes  not  accjuire  strength  to  swing  his 
liam'u  r  l>y  running  foot-races,  nor  does  the  logician 
hi'cniin!  ju'oficient  in  subtle  reasoning  by  counting 
iiinni  V  or  selhng  bacon.  Biml  a  lind)  and  it  withers  ; 
I'ut  nut  one  eye,  and  the  other  performs  the  work  of 
two.  Min<l  and  nniscle  alike  grow,  accjuin;  stnMigth 
and  Llubticity  by  exorcise.     Little  is  expected  of  the 


1 


I 


i: 


■f 


il 


i 

N  'I.    ,■ 


158 


WORK. 


man  who  in  youth  was  not  sent  to  school  or  required 
to  work. 

To  this  end  exercise  is  encouraged  ahke  in  children 
and  adults,  often  in  dull  bar  or  club  movements,  or 
strained  walkitiuf,  wliieh  lose  nmeh  of  their  value  from 
tlie  associated  distaste.  A  l)oat  or  bicycle  miglit  be 
welcomed  as  more  agreeable,  and  therefore  also  as 
more  beneficial,  and  many  would  find  still  greater  sat- 
isfaction in  a  task  with  practical  results,  in  the  fl()W(  r 
patch,  the  woodshed,  or  on  the  lawn ;  the  manual 
worker,  on  his  side,  seeks  discipline  as  well  as  relaxn- 
tion  for  the  mind  in  chess,  or  in  some  solid  reading. 
JNTany  a  craftsman  would  labor  without  recompense 
in  Iiis  vocation  ratlier  than  lose  his  cunning  therein. 
Efl'ort  is  always  its  own  reward.  Every  well-directetl 
blow  sjfives  stren<j:th  to  the  arm  and  skill  to  the  fintjers 
equally,  whether  paid  for  or  not.  Better,  indeetl,  to 
work  for  nothing  and  maintain  in  good  condition  tlie 
digestive  and  other  organs,  rather  than  spend  money 
at  the  alehouse  in  spoiHng  them.  Laziness  is  sociiil 
gangrene;  like  the  sword  of  Hudibras,  whicli  ateinln 
itself  for  lack  of  blood  to  eat,  it  is  its  own  perdition. 
Deplorable  would  be  the  aspect  of  humanity  breeding 
like  maggots  u[)on  the  putridity  of  ettbrtless  existence. 
The  stoppage  of  work  would  bring  about  decay,  retro- 
gression to  savagism,  annihilation. 

Labor,  then,  is  improving,  elevating,  ennobling  in 
itself,  l)esides  bringing  comfort  and  wealth,  unfolding 
civilization,  and  approximating  toward  tiiat  perfection 
which  is  the  ideal  alike  of  the  individual  and  of  on- 
ward-pushing society.  This  applies  only  to  weil- 
directed  la])or,  for  the  spasmodic  efibrts  of  the  savii-c 
yield  but  temporary  benefits  as  cotnpared  with  ])vo- 
gressive  and  enduring  operations  of  civilized  connim- 
nities.  Nor  would  the  finished  results  o(  the  latter, 
in  machinery,  silks,  and  books,  be  appreciated  by  tlic 
other. 

From  this  aspect  the  possession  of  inherited  wealih 


QUALITIES  OF  LABOR. 


1S8 


Si'ldom  confers  tlie  liaj)[)inoss  wl»ich  is  so  widely  asso- 
( iated  with  it.  The  absence  of  an  inspiring  ahn,  sucli, 
tiir  instance,  as  led  the  pioneers  of  tlie  west  to  build 
up  ini})osing  and  flourisliing  commonwealths,  relaxes 
the  iiiergy,  con<hiccs  to  misdirected  and  abortive  ex- 
cition,  and  impairs  the  power  of  mind  and  body,  un- 
litting  them  for  the  proper  or  full  enjoyment  of  life. 
I  Measure  nauseates;  labor  likewise  is  uncongenial  from 
lack  of  will  and  skill,  and  the  victim  sinks,  an  invalid, 
into  ennui. 

I  Hind  pursuit  of  wealth  is  no  less  debasing  than  the 
])assionate  searcji  for  i)leasures.  The  one  is  ex[)ected 
to  follow  in  the  wake  of  the  other.  As  if  in  accord 
with  some  hidden  principle  in  tlui  economy  of  nature, 
the  miserly  sire  is  often  succeedoil  by  a  s[)(;ndthrift 
JR'ir;  the  jiushing  man  of  business  leaves  an  indok^nt 
SOI),  tlie  genius  a  cominoii[)]ace  oflspring.  Excessive 
ciu'i'gy  spends  itst>lf,  or  \vt>akens  the  organs  upon 
wliicli  falls  the  drain.  Likewise  the  aspirations  an>l 
d(>sires  unduly  restrained  at  one  period  burst  forth  at 
another  in  over  indulgence.  The  predilections  of  one 
'jcncration  find  their  balancing  bents  in  anotlier.  In- 
tellectual revival  follows  a  long  period  of  material 
jirosperity.  Surfeited  with  gold,  even  Midas  remom- 
l)crs  his  mind,  and  turns  it  to  some  new  enjoyment. 

There  is  much  talk  about  honorable  or  dishonorable 
degrees  in  labor,  manual  and  mental,  menial  and  in- 
(lejH-ndent,  cheap  and  dear.  Cheaj)  labor  is  no  more 
•  legiading  than  dear  labor.  No  labor  is  degradinj»'. 
It  all  contributes  to  the  well-being  of  mankiiul  and 
the  advancement  of  civilization  directly  or  indirectlv. 
»Soiiie  kinds  of  labor  are  more  elevating,  more  improv- 
in:4',  more  refining  than  others,  but  all  are  honorable. 
The  literary  and  scientific  pursuits  which  expand  the 
inind  and  enlarge  the  soul  are  naturally  to  be;  preferred 
to  handling  a  shovel  or  cobbling  shoes,  and  the  superior 
knowlc^dgc  and  skill  which  adapts  the  possessor  for 
such  tasks  confer  a  certain  advantage  over  those  less 


160 


WORK. 


favored  ;  vet  to  class  the  inferior  work  as  humiliatinuf 
is  wroiiL!;,  sin*  o  labor  aims  at  a  benefit,  jpcr  sr  and  in 
its  results.  Again,  some  kinds  of  work  are  liglit  and 
pleasant,  otiiers  i)ainful ;  others,  by  reason  of  collateral 
conditions,  unwliolesoine;  excessive  labor  is  always 
disajjjreiable.  The  duties  of  the  i»hvsician  are  in  some 
respects  unpleasaiit,  but  no  one  thinks  of  calling  them 
degradinij^.  But  for  the  benefit  arising  from  the  care- 
ful  exnmination  of  the  exquisite  anatomy  of  tho 
human  body,  the  dissecting  of  dead  men  would  bo 
about  as  revolting  an  occupation  as  the  mind  could 
imagine. 

In  its  repute  labor  has  undergone  many  fluctua- 
tions, from  the  character  of  those  to  whom  particular 
branch(\s  have  been  assigne<l.  Thus  the  descendants 
of  S})anish  conquerors  in  America  consigned  tillage 
and  other  hard  tasks  to  enslaved  Indians,  and  recjarded 
it  as  derogatorv  to  their  diirnitv  to  join  therein.  Yet 
not  in  the  labor  which  Virujil  framed  in  silowinn'  verso, 
and  for  whicli  Cincimiatus  abandoned  the  dictator- 
ship, lay  the  stigma,  but  in  the  association  with  tlu^st' 
who  [>erformed  it. 

Labor  has  steadily  risen  in  estimation  with  tho 
elevation  of  its  votaries.  Compare  the  present  con- 
dition of  the  farmer  and  plough-boy  of  America  with 
that  of  their  serf  predecessors  of  feudal  times,  and 
the  position  of  the  merciiant  class  of  to-day  with  that 
of  the  period  when  the  wielder  of  the  sword  alono 
enjoyed  repute  above  ignoble  connnoners.  ^J'he  riso 
is  proportiouiite  to  democratic  ascendancy,  as  illus- 
trated in  particular  in  the  United  States.  Tho  equali- 
zation of  classes,  and  in  a  measures  therefore  of  labor, 
was  never  more  strikingly  depicted  than  during  tho 
early  mining  fevers  on  the  Pacific  coast,  when  scien- 
tist and  jurist  worked  side  by  side  with  artisan 
and  hiborer  in  common  pursuit  of  gold,  and  joinc>d  on 
e(|ual  terms  in  every  pliase  of  life.  Labor  was  deified. 
The  possibilities  opened  in  this  land  to  pure  energy, 
the  caprices  of  fortune  in  distributing  her  resources, 


KVILS  OF  KXCES.S. 


161 


aiul  the  general  participation  in  politics,  tend  to  sus- 
tiiiii  that  cquaHty  to  a  j^reat  extent. 

The  Spanish  view  of  Indian  labor  has  found  a 
parallel  on  this  coast  in  Mongolian  competition,  which, 
1(V  the  liuniiliating  association  of  a  lower  race,  is 
iiiaking  distasteful  to  Anglo-Saxons  diiferent  branches 
n\  labor.  It  is  claimed  that  by  its  i)olitical  and  social 
liiws  the  nation  iini)oses  upon  the  latter  a  high  stand- 
ard of  living,  inclmUng  the  rearing  and  education  of 
tamilics,  which  cannot  be  well  maintained  if  a  class 
(if  uiiuiarried  men,  free  from  such  ties  and  obligation, 
and  accustomed  to  a  cheap  mode  of  life  be  allowed 
to  (Microacii  u))on  their  resources. 

Much  is  said  in  tliese  latter  days  about  overwork. 
(U' course  excess  of  any  kind  is  an  (  vil ;  and  the 
;;rrattr  t])e  blessing,  the  greater  the  curse  when  car- 
ried too  far.  Vet  there  is  much  less  overwoi'k  than 
many  would  have  us  believe;  nmch  less  overwork 
tliaii  overreaching.  It  is  worry  that  kills  men,  not 
work.  The  harassing  cares  of  overstrained  business, 
tlic  siia])ping  of  hungry  hounds  who  follow  at  tlie 
heels  of  the  unwarv,  the  burninu's  of  icalousv,  stock 
^anil»liiig,  and  the  demon  drink,  extra vaganci-  in  dress 
and  liviiiLC  these  arc  what  wear  life  awav.  With  the 
uiressaiy  food  and  raiment,  and  rest,  work  never  in- 
jures anyone. 

The  student  slu)uld  not  neglect  physical  exercise, 
'ir  ilie  laboring  or  business  man  intellectual  culture. 
\\  "ik  mav  be  varied  with  ureat  advanta«''e.  Indeed 
a  cliange  of  work  is  the  best  kind  of  rest.  The 
liiuliest  attainment  comes  only  with  the  proper  de- 
vi  lopnient  of  l)oth  mind  and  Ixxly.  Either  exercised 
unduly  brings  weakness  upon  the  other.  In  this 
si  nsc  overwork  signifies  simply  tlie  neglect  of  duo 
I'nrautions  and  adjuncts  for  carrying  out  the  main 
tiisk,  Severe  injury  is  frequently  incurred  by  injudi- 
'i"Us  lifting  <»f  a  weight  which  with  care  or  proper 
''I'liliaiiees  could  be  handled  with  ease. 

KhSAYS   AND   MlNCKLLANV  11 


162 


WORK. 


I 


II 


if: 

Mi 

¥ 


fl 


The  development  of  a  community  depends  upon  the 
knowledi^e,  disposition,  and  ai)titude  of  its  members, 
rather  than  upon  natural  advantages.  The  law  of 
work  i)artakes  of  the  inmmtable  in  nature's  laws. 
TJie  chief  condition  for  success  is  work.  Honest, 
well-diiected  effort  is  as  sure  to  succeed  as  the  swell- 
\i\[l  rivulet  is  sure  U)  find  for  itself  a  channel.  Let 
tlie  wage- worker  also  take  heart,  liave  patience,  and 
])ersevere,  laboring  not  as  in  the  presence  of  a  tusk 
master,  whom  to  defraud  by  perfunctory  services  wciv 
a  gain ;  but  remend)ering  that  every  good  dcvd  is  done 
for  himself,  and  makes  him  stronger,  healthier,  wisi'i'. 
nobler,  whether  performed  in  the  dark  or  in  the  br<i;ul 
light  of  o[Hn  day. 

Every  subterfuge,  slight,  or  cheat  is  sure  to  react 
on  the  performer.  The  sliop  or  ofiice  is  but  the  cru- 
cible j!i  which  his  metal  is  to  be  tried,  the  work  tlir 
anvil  u))on  which  with  his  (»wn  arms  he  hannners 
out  his  cliaracter,  his  daily  duties  the  nutuld  in  \\  iicli 
his  destiny  is  shaj)ed.  The  s})irit  in  which  his  dutii  s 
are  done  gives  form  and  <lircction  to  his  future  life:  it 
makes  or  unmakes  him  for  all  time.  Tlu'  re]>utati'>ii 
acquired  among  his  comrades  is  likely  to  be  a  tni' 
estimate  of  his  character.  From  the  incipient  stagt  s 
of  a  business  career  ])roceed  natural  results,  and  tlw 
bad  beginnings  make  good  endings.  A  course  of  cK- 
ception  can  never  lead  to  success.  "Nemo  onnics, 
neminem  omnes  fefellerunt,"  observes  the  youii'^Li' 
Pliny. 

Cliaracter  will  not  be  hidden.  It  shows  itself  in 
gait  and  garments  ;  it  shines  through  the  gossamer  ef 
features  and  is  woven  into  <^)bservation  by  the  fingers. 
Even  the  contour  of  a  man,  his  back  towards  yeu 
speaks  volumes,  and  the  very  atmosphere  surround- 
ing him  breathes  of  his  occu])ation,  be  it  of  shoji. 
pulpit,  or  the  courtroom.  Confine  ignited  gunpowdor 
in  a  rock;  smother  Vesuvius  with  a  handful  of  aslns; 
but  do  not  attempt  the  r61e  of  the  foolish  ostrich  which 
thrusts  its  head  under  a  leaf  to  hide  itself  withal. 


SUCCE.SS   AXU   FAILURE. 


1G3 


Tlie  appreciation  by  parents  of  early  training  for  a 
career,  no  less  for  inculcating  industrious  habits  than 
for  acquiring  knowledge  of  a  business,  is  manifest  in 
tlie  widely  prevalent  custom  of  binding  boys  to  a 
trade  or  profession,  often  paying  for  ti»e  privilege. 
With  the  improvement  of  character,  mind,  and  limbs 
should  be  united  the  desire  to  elevate  the  vocation, 
itiid  to  study  the  employer's  interest  as  a  duty  to  one's 
own  honor  and  unfolding,  no  less  than  in  just  fulfil- 
iiviit  of  agreements. 

Conscientious  performance  of  obligations  will  com- 
iiiaiid  alike  esteem  and  success.  Failure  arises  from 
not  doing  work  rather  than  not  havhig  work  to  do. 
Ijiving  ill  a  poorer  country  than  the  Ignited  States 
(roethe  says,  "  Ich  liabe  gesehen,  so  lange  einer  lel)t 
iind  sicli  rlilirt,  findet  er  hnmer  seine  Nahrung,  und 
wiMiii  sie  audi  gleicli  nicht  d'lo  reichlichstc  ist.  Und 
wtiiiher  lial)t  ihr  euch  denn  zu  beschweren." 

Kear  Teufclsdrockh  rant  in  Sartor  Rrsarff(s. 
"Tools!  Thou  hast  no  tools?  Why,  there  is  not  a 
man  or  a  thing  now  live  but  has  tools.  The  basest 
of  created  animalcules,  the  spider  itself  has  a  spinning- 
jenny,  and  warping-mill,  and  power-loom  within  its 
held;  the  stupidest  of  oysters  has  a  papin's  digestion, 
with  stone  and  lime  house  to  hold  it  in.  Every  being 
that  can  live  can  do  something  ;  this  let  him  do. 
Tools?  Hast  thou  not  a  brain  furnished,  furnishable 
with  some  Ljliinmerings  of  lioht;  and  three  finijers  to 
hold  a  pen  withal?  Never  sin-e  Aaron's  rod  went 
out  of  practice,  or  even  before  it,  was  there  such  a 
wond(!r-workin«jr  tool ;  i^reater  than  all  recorded  mira- 
clos  have  been  performed  by  pens." 

Lot  the  young  man  remember  he  will  be  rated  at 
his  W(^rth;  of  this  let  him  have  no  fear.  Be  the  night 
never  so  dark  in  which  he  does  virtuously ;  be  the 
solitude  never  so  dense  in  which  he  performs  more 
than  his  allotted  task  ;  be  the  thoughts  never  so  se- 
erot  which  come  from  a  mind  occupied  with  another's 
welfare,  from  a  mind  pondering  on  improvement,  on 


IM 


WORK. 


the  more  complete  surrender  <»f  self  to  a  nmnly  suc- 
cess; he  need  not  fear  lest  any  of  these  fall  to  the 
jL^round ;  his  own  head  and  heart  alone  retain  sufficient 
benefits  from  his  high  aspirations. 

To  him  who  does  his  best  life  is  no  venture.  Among 
human  possibilities  the  youth  may  make  of  himself 
what  he  will.  There  is  no  uncertainty  about  it.  It 
may  be  reduced  to  a  simple  mathematical  or  chemical 
[•roposition.  To  so  nmny  pounds  of  common-sense 
add  so  many  ounces  of  honesty,  mix  it  with  a  certain 
amount  of  ener<^y,  and  bake  it  over  a  slow  fire  in  tlu' 
uven  of  human  experience,  and  the  bread  so  fermented 
shall  make  fat  the  nation. 


ll ' '  ? 


ijt    / 
in    ^ 


Still  further  may  be  discussed  the  benefits  of  labor 
apart  from  its  fruits,  its  abstract  qualities  and  its  in- 
dividual relationship  to  human  progress  in  the  econo- 
my of  the  universe ;  but  enough  has  been  said  to  show 
the  fact  tliat  work  of  itself  is  a  blessing  rather  than  a 
curse.  If  it  fall  heavily  at  tunes  the  cause  lies  in 
man's  ambition,  and  tlie  artificial  demands  of  society 
with  its  cumulating  obligations.  The  civilization  wliicli 
has  in)posed  tlie  excess  is  also  continually  striving  to  re- 
tluce  it  by  means  of  inventions,  of  subdivision,  coopera- 
tion, and  other  methods  of  organization.  Machinery,  in 
particular,  lias  relieved  man  of  the  most  severe  and 
difficult  tasks,  and  is  daily  lightening  his  toil.  It  lias 
also  lessened  the  hours  of  labor,  giving  wider  oppor- 
tunity for  the  enjoyment  of  the  fast  multiplying  com- 
forts and  entertainments  provided  from  that  same 
source,  and  leisure  for  improvement  in  those  arts 
which  assist  the  individual  to  bear  his  burden  bettt-r, 
and  to  advance  society  toward  the  millennial  stai^^e 
when  work  shall  be  generally  appreciated  as  a  bless- 
ing unalloyed. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

BATTRK  LK  KKU  sVli  L'KNCLUME. 
Non  est  are,  quae  a<l  uffcctuiii  casu  veiiit. 


— Sevfrii. 


SicoKss  and  failure  in  life  are  not  accidents.  Suc- 
<'ess  8[)rings  from  natural  causes,  and  follows  funda- 
mental rules.  There  must  be  the  implanted  germ 
and  tlie  developing  environment.  The  necessary  con- 
ditions are  often  deficient,  but  every  person  may  suc- 
ceed to  a  greater  or  less  extent  in  some  direction. 

True  success  must  be  restricted  to  that  which  not 
only  strengthens  the  mind  and  body  and  morals  of 
till'  person  directly  seeking  it,  but  which  brings  a 
ItciR'fit  of  greater  or  less  degree  to  every  member  of 
the  society  in  which  that  person  lives. 

Success  is  not  wholly  free  from  its  hypocrisies. 
Often  it  coiiies  to  us  disguised  ;  often  we  pursue  the 
shadow  of  it  while  the  substance  is  with  us.  Many 
have  achieved  success  who  deemed  their  lives  failures; 
many  failures  have  been  made  by  those  who  regard 
their  lives  successful.  It  is  altogether  as  men  meas- 
ure success;  whether  in  wealth,  virtue,  fame,  fashion, 
or  wickedness.  Aspiration  leading  to  effort  thougii 
attended  by  .seeming  failure,  is  sometimes  success,, 
whih'  effortless  success  may  be  failure;  for  one  carries 
witi  1  it  improvement,  development,  increase  of  strength, 
tile  other  weakness  and  decay. 

It  is  not  unconmion  to  hear  those  who  have 
achieved  success  in  any  one  of  the  paths  of  industry 
rail  at  their  less  fortunate  neighbor,  and  attribute  the 
cause  of  disappointment  to  some   radical   defect   of 

(  i«!> ) 


166 


BATTRK  LB   ¥VJ{  SIR   LENlLUME. 


;£)■ '  i 


!♦    3 


character.  In  their  eyes  defeat  carries  with  it  prima 
facie  evi(l(!uce  of  defect.  Tiie  unfortunate  man  i.s  a 
visionary,  who  tircams  life  away  in  idle;  speculation  ; 
or  an  enthusiast,  who,  without  fortityiiii;  his  premises 
by  sound  conniion  sense,  rushes  headlon;^  on  false 
conclusions;  or  a  sciiiincr,  wasting  his  time  in 
futile  attempts  at  j^reat  thin<;s,  when  moderate  ef- 
forts would  1)«!  attended  by  more  beneficial  results. 
Brimful  of  the  elements  of  success  themselves,  it  is 
impossible  for  them  to  comprehend  a  nature  so  organ- 
izetl  as  iKtt  to  [(ossess  these  elements,  or  to  restrain 
their  virtuous  indignation.  \  man  lias  no  business 
to  bo  unsuccessful;  failure  is  a  fault,  and  penury  a 
crime. 

In  one  sense  this  is  tru(\  but  seldom  do  those  solt- 
satistied  autocrats  take  the  trouble  to  in(|uire  what 
success  is,  and  what  failure.  It  is  taken  Ibr  granted 
that  the  prosperous  issue  of  whatever  they  may  have 
attempted,  the  attainment  of  whatever  may  have  Leen 
their  desires,  is  the  sum  of  nn-riti'd  good  fortune  to 
themselves,  and  the  best  that  coulil  happen  to  man- 
kind. It  is  generallv  understood  that  the  man  makes 
the  most  of  himself  who,  if  he  be  a  lawyer  or  a  iloc- 
tor,  enjoys  a  lucrative  practice  ;  if  a  clergyman,  fills 
the  largest  church  ;  or,  if  a  man  of  business,  accumu- 
lates a  fortune.  This  is  true  only  in  part;  the  s|»ee(.- 
ing  of  our  faculties  is  but  a  necessary  preparation 
before  we  are  entitled  to  a  place  even  among  the  com- 
petitors for  a  prize.  Were  there  no  attem])ts  excipt 
such  as  promised  success:  were  all  non-successful  t  t- 
forts  lost,  this  were  a  different  world.  Success,  or 
>vhat  we  have  learned  to  look  u|»on  as  success,  is  gen- 
erally so  insignificant,  so  unsatisfying,  so  slight  in 
value  to  ourselves  or  others — sometimes  indeed  the 
greatest  evil — that  if  in  the  accoiuplishment  of  our 
desires,  the  consummation  of  our  purposes,  was  found 
the  only  benefit,  as  well  might  the  holder  of  the  uni- 
verse withdraw  his  arm  and  let  chaos  come  again,  f<»r 
in  no  surer  way  could  mankind  be  sent  swiftly  to 
destruction. 


SUCfK.sS  THAT   IS   NOT  .SUtCE.SS. 


191 


Well  uiulorstoud  i.s  tlio  ovil  attoiul'miX  tho  attain- 
iiiiiit  cf  liis  j^oal  l)y  tilt'  tyrant,  tlii'  blindly  aml)itiou8 
s.ildiir,  the  nuichiavclliau  Htatcsiiiaii.  In  aj^j^rcssivo 
ctlorts  the  loser  must  Rutror  iiutro  or  less  severely,  al- 
thoU'L^li  the  winncrniay  find  victory  disastrous,  Sueli 
stniLjijlt's  for  mastery  are  constant  in  (tur  midst,  tho 
y>>Ui'  and  jjjamester  iit  society,  tin;  unscru[)ulous  spcc- 
ilator  in  Wusiness,  alike  hrinj^iny;  sutl'erinj^;  to  otiiers. 

Winninf^  money  at  play  ;  LCamhliiiL?  in  mining  stocks, 
ill  wlu'at  or  other  mei'cliandise,  and  in  ^ecnritit■s;  ori;;;i- 
natiiiL,^  and  mani[)ulatin^  mono[>olie,s  which  t)perate 
unjustly  upon  a  portion  of  the  ])eople — those  and  tho 
;iccom[ilislimeut  of  like  imj)ositions  cann(»t  he  consid- 
ered in  conncctit)U  with  true  success,  thou)j;h  they 
liriii'^  into  tlic  pocket  their  millions,  jiiid  friends  and 
sycoiihants  hy  the  thousands,  and  seek  an  atonim^  miiso 
iu  tlie  ituildiiin'  of  churches,  hospitals,  and  otht-r  henevo- 
I'lit  ('Iforts, 

Tiie  politician  who  secures  ]>lace  at  the  cost  of  man- 
hood, and  the  teacher,  clerical  or  literary,  who  pan- 
dors  to  popular  taste  instead  of  }>i'omuln'atini;'  unjiala- 
t.ihle  truths,  or  |iarades  dead  forms  in  o[)position  to 
living;  facts,  no  less  than  the  ah^orhcd  monry-makcr, 
sell  their  souls  to  slavery,  and  im[»eril  the  ]>rospects  of 
themselves  and  their  neighbors  for  a  momentary  ^ain. 

Yet  hy  the  peo[)lo  these  fools  are  flattered  until 
they  learn  to  despise  their  flattt'rcrs.  The  country, 
the  world,  is  no  better  for  their  haviuLT  lived  in  it. 
Men  njiiy  ac(juire  the  power  that  money  buys,  but  if 
their  influence  be  such  as  to  lower  the  standard  of 
public  morals,  to  forgo  fetters  for  unfolding  intellect, 
>ir  to  advance  nmmmon  in  opposition  to  mind,  tht>ir 
iiroad(!st  successes  arc  but  brilliant  failures.  From 
tho  [)uddlcs  of  politics,  and  mammon  ditches  and  ec- 
clesiastic marshes,  rise  human  ins(>ctivora  with  feelers 
and  suckers  and  pincers  ready  for  victims,  most 
voijicious  in  their  appetite,  preying  on  each  other  like 
moil  who  cat  men,  for  there  are  human  insects  in  so- 
cial life  as  elsewhere. 


rns 


KATTRK   LK    KKK   SL!l   l/KNTLUMK 


Even  the  general  aecoinplisliiiieiit  of  wishes  by  hon. 
orable  and  legitunate  nieuiis  would  he  (H]uivaleiit  to 
failure  thr(>U!»:h  the  verv  uiiiversalitv  of  the  success. 
If  all  obtained  the  riches  sighed  for,  or  the  honors 
sought,  these  would  become  worthless  and  leave  the 
uainer  no  better  off  than  hefore. 


While  considering  the  time  honored  way  to  success, 
we  must  remember  that  many  have  found  what  they 
sought,  taking  another  course.  Yet  he  who  steps 
aside  from  the  beaten  path  must  expect  a  rough  road, 
with  brand)les  and  pitfalls ;  he  may  be  many  times 
discomfited,  driven  back,  and  perhaps,  finally  »>vi'rcome; 
hut  uhis  is  prctgress.  We  of  to-day  are  greatly  in- 
debted to  mechanical  inventions;  our  usefulness  and 
our  comfort  are  increased  thereby  a  hundred  fold. 
Vet  the  [latent  office  shows  that  for  every  success 
there  an;  a  thousand  failures.  Success  comes  from  at- 
tem[)ts  ;  without  attempts  there  could  b(^  no  successes. 
Now  in  the  very  nature;  of  things  there  must  be  moro 
attem[)ts  than  successes,  so  that,  sjttuiking  broadly, 
every  success  is  the  result  of  a  multitude  of  failures 

Life  consists,  then,  not  s«)nmch  in  endsas  in  eftbrts; 
antl  often  less  in  what  a  man  does  than  in  what  ln' 
attenn»ts  t(»  do.  The  sum  of  Jiuman  accom]>lishn*cnr 
bears  but  a  small  proportion  to  the  sum  of  human 
efibrts.  All  this  is  well  for  progress,  for  un(U>rtaking> 
aiv  more  civilizing  than  successes.  Attempts  surpass 
results;  this  giand  civilization  of  ours  is  a  [iressinu 
forward,  not  a  rest,  just  as  philosophy  is  a  search  after 
truth,  rather  than  truth  itself 

He  who  fails  in  attempting  great  things  often 
achieves  tlu'  grandest  success.  It  is  not  in  dciii'^ 
some  things  as  well  as  they  have  been  done  befoiv 
tliat  civilization  is  })i'omote(l,  but  in  doing  one  thing 
better  than  it  has  ever  before  been  done,  or  bv  doin.; 
.something  that  has  n<^V(T  before  been  done.  Cohun- 
bus  did  not  find  the  India  he  sought ;  but  were  n'>t 
his  voNUges  a  success  ? 


MIS r >l [{ K(  TKI >    KFFOUTS. 


must  be  iiioi* 


iin  of  liuinan 


Mupts  surjiiis-. 
is  a  [)ressin.: 
a  search  after 


not  111   «l<'m'. 


but  weiv  11' >t 


After  all  it  is  hardly  worth  while  to  talk  of  the 
luiserv  atteiidiiior  jrreat  failures.  There  is  no  hiirher 
lia)>iiiness  hi  store  for  certain  souls  with  broad  am- 
hition  than  these  very  embarrassments.  Only  ignoble 
attinijtts  brins;'  misery.  There  is  a  charm  attendini'" 
virtuous  misfortune,  bv  which  the  success  of  mere 
aci-ident  is  shamed. 

Tlun  let  each  have  heart  to  ?abor  while  he  may, 
kiiowinu  that  not  one  jot  shall  fail  purposeless  to  the 
<4rt>uiMl:  that  every  blow  struck  by  his  puny  arm  is 
felt  ill  the  vil>rationsof  a  universe;  that  every  thou«_dit 
of  liis  i)oor  uiiderstandiniT,  everv  emotion  of  his  lovinyr 
ami  liatiii'j,'  heart,  sends  a  throb  throuj^h  the  eternal 
a.;vs  of  intelligence.  For  he,  even  he,  is  part  of  this 
.;rt'at  universe,  an  inseparable,  ineradicable  part ;  mind, 
soul,  iu'ing,  one  with  the  eternal. 

Science  tells  US  that  in  the  univei'se  of  matter  there 
i>  iitvei-  an  atom  made  or  unmade  ;  that  the  molecule 
no  iiiiii*'  than  the  mass  can  dro[)  out  of  its  [»lace  and 
he  lost  in  absolute  void  ;  that  not  an  iota  of  force  can 
he  cioated  or  uncreated  ;  that  there  is  no  such  thing 
us  ori'>iiuitinu"  or  annihilatiiiijf  i)otential  enerijv  aiiv 
nil  in'  than  fuiulaniental  eli'ments  of  nmtter.  Force. 
t!i(  n,  is  a  positive  existing  something,  incapable  of  ad- 
dition or  subtraction. 

I'^ojlowiiig  up  this  idea,  and  have  we  not  every  rea- 
son to  conclude  that  the  highest,  the  bright(  .st,  ti  " 
most  ch'ctric  of  all  forces,  lifi',  soul,  intellect,  when 
|iin|Mrly  exen'ised.  live  in  tlu'ir  results;  thai  the  con- 
>i(|iicnt  thought,  motion,  being,  are  indestructible 
.iiitl  eternal  in  their  essentials,  come  from  some  source 
.i!i(l  (  scape  tcisome  boiii'lK'.  W  misdirected,  the  etl'ei-t 
of  the  oiiiotion  upini  ourselves  and  others  may  be  in- 
jiiridus  or  tleeting;  the  idea  born  of  thought  may  dis- 
snlvo  without  leaving  a  trace;  the  eelibate  who  ni>g- 
I'ctstorear  a  progeny  passes  unevolved  into  food  alone 
tor  lower  organisms.  A  blow  may  s[)end  itself  in  aii-, 
or  it  iiiav  eut  off"  a  dvnastv  or  agitate  a  nation.  The 
true  idea  is,  emotion  nn[)resses  itself  from  generation 


t: 


170 


liATTKK    I.K    FKR  SUR    l/KNCLUMK. 


to  <^(!norati(>ii  in  evcr-widcniiiijj  expansion,  tlio  iriccn- 
tivx'  to  L^'cat  acliic  vcnuMits.  Taking;  t'oiin.  tlio  idci 
transmits  its  jj^orni  for  i^randcr  unt'oldinij;'  in  t'utuiv 
a'jjcs,  oven  failures  assistin*?  !•>'  tlieir  pointed  lesson- 
to  smooth  the  path  toi'  sueeesscs.  The  idea  of  tli' 
im[)r{)ved  mind  s])rin!j;s  from  a  richer  soil  than  that  <>'' 
the  uncultured  sa\a«;t'. 

}{o\v  little  of  orif^inality  iscontainc<l  in  the  so-(  alji  i. 
new  ideas.      At   their  hest  tlu'V  seldom    pass   heyoii'i 
an  additional  \v'u\<f  to  the  existing  ecHlicc;.      Yet,  as  w 
foi-in   new  ctMnhijiations  of  matter,  and  say  we  ha\i 
caused   thes(!    plants   to  ;_;r'o\v  or  ma<lt>  this  house  or 
this  machine,  in  reality  we  only  ehan'.-e  the   f(trm  < 
particles    already   made,   a    few   of    the  <_'Tander  con- 
ce[itions  sprin;j,in'4"  like  new  ci'eations  tVom  the  mimii 
g(M'ms  of  the  jiast.      ( )riL;inality  in  literature  ms  eK, 
where  istherefoica  re-arranjjfinerMtJier  than  aci'eatin- 

How  feeble,  withal,  is  the  uidoldin;^!  What  ai 
all  our  schools,  our  printin<j,'  presses,  our  pulpits,  l>ii; 
hellows  f  )r  fanninijf  the  liame,  which  eKe  would  di^  ' 
W^ith  all  the  eniiinerv  of  a''t\s  emiilox'ed  in  inoculai- 
injjj  th(!  youn;^;  with  what  the  dyin-^'  old  <-an  hy  iv 
shoi'tei'  process  l»e(|Ueath  to  tlu'm.  how  >n'4hl:  the  ai!- 
vance  I  Cease  these  nieiius,  and  how  laj'id  the  rel ;  - 
gression.     JL;iiorance  hreeils. 

NeNcrtheless.    advancement     is     assured,    and     JK 
prospe-tive  Lifrandeur  mav   I >e  judged   Ky  our  presinf 
sliortconiine-s.     Is  the  tiiir  earth  made  fairer  hy  nuin  : 
are    pi'im    orchards,   and   clean  tields,   and  cold   hail 
nii'tals   for  us(\  ornament,  and  cuneticy.  recompeii-< 
sulHcient    for    n)utilaled    forests    ;ind    disemi)owel|r.| 
sierras  i      With  all  our  hoast<'d  cultivatinL*'  and  reliniM^ 
we  cannot  improve  upon  tin;  lily,  nor  make  the  swi  ■  ' 
air    sweeter,   nor  a  ray  of  sunshiiu'    hri^^hter.       W ' 
nuiddle  with  the  handiwork  of  onmij)otence  in  a  crml' 
striving  for  perfection,  to  r<  gain  with   Plato  the  id'  -il 
type.      Herein  lies  power  enough  hehind  our  intelint 
to  drive  it  on  to  eternal  activities,  willing  or  unwilling 
But  there  an'  also  other  impulses,  without  which  f  w 


EFFECT  OF  EFFORT. 


171 


wnuld  nu)Vo  or  beconio  imlmcd  witli  that  loftier  in- 


centive. 

Wlifit  Ijnine  and  f()rei;jju  foes  are  to  tli(>  life;  of  the 
iiatitiii.  so  tlie  daily  strangles  for  existenee,  and  the 
aiitaLjonisiiis  which  attend  them,  are  to  tin;  life  of 
tlic  individual,      lieinove    fi'oni  humanity  the  atnios- 

Kijr  |)it'ssure  of  want  and  calamity,  and  the  orLianisni 

<_f    so    closclv 


is  straightway  rent  asuntler.  Nothin 
(Tincnts  one  to  his  higher  destiny  as  necessity,  witli 
\\<  coijodin;.;' cart'.  Social  phenomena,  under  whatso- 
r\ti'  form  or  |»hasc  nianltcstrd,  while  seekiii;.;"  thcii- 
snutc(!  in  the  intellectual  foice  expressed  hy  human 
societies  and  inchxiihials  of  rcmot*'  times,  pass  on  to 
c\eit  a  moulihni;-  intluencc  of  perhaps  still  greater  ini- 
|M>it  upon  the  future. 

We  have  seen  that  the  benefit  of  labor  lit'S  not  more 
in  tlie  fruits  of  lalior  tl  .i.     in  the  ctlects  of  laboi-  on 


tli<'  laiiorei'.      ( Jolds  lu.- 


f 


•mes  troin  use 


It 


IS  or 


tlaiiii'd  that  in  the  use  of  our  liml»sand  faculties,  and 
ill  their  use  alone,  there  isdeveldpuK  nt.  Dill,  whether 
direct  or  iiuhii'ct  the  re>-ults,  by  t  hese  alone  must  every 
liuiiiaii  life  he  measured.  in  the  <'entre  of  an  all- 
pi. nhiein^-  universe,  man  the  fruit  of  all  must  yet 
liear  I'luit.      It  is  the  ine\(»rable  rule  of  })er[Ktuation, 


111  ar  <>r  cease  to  Ik 


N 


r  iiia\'  We  pass  li\-  as  \  (ii( 


I   of 


resulls  the  lives  of  that,  ureat  ar.ny  of  workers  ^\llo 
'in  <in\vn  to  their  foriiiei'  dii.st,  leaving'  their  miliious 
lit'  unrecorded  t  llbrts,  such  as  we  are  accustomed  to 
ti nil  fruitless.      Nolmiiesi,  we!l-dii'ectcd  elfort  is  ever* 

tVuitJess.        We  ma\    not  be  able  to  see  the  results,   N'et 

the  results  »'\ist;  tli(>  fruit  may  not  a|»pear  until  cen- 
turies after  tli(:  seed  was  planted;  yet  all  the  experi- 
cnc(  s  hy  which  (Mimes  our  later  succi'ss  are  horn, 
;iiiMii'4  (»thers,  of  these  so-called  fruitless  ellbrts,  as  we 
liave  elsewhere  seen. 


liiteiature  is  the  aecident  rather  than  the  object  of 
lilt',  and  being  couith'd  with  some  collateral  oecu{)ation 


17: 


HATTRK   LK   FF.K   SLR   LKNt'LUMK. 


by  moans  of  wliidi  livolili()()«l  and  leisure  are  obtained, 
l>(>oks  are  produced  not  in  j)roi)ortion  to  the  demand, 
but  in  accordance  with  the  will  and  ability  of  men  to 
gratify  their  }>leasure  or  vanity  by  thrusting  their 
ideas  upon  the  public.  Hence  it  is  that  literary  labor 
is  the  poorest  paid  of  all  labor,  and  often  a  jioorer  class 
of  labor  is  better  paid  than  a  superior  kind. 

It  is  rash  to  talk  of  making  literature  a  profession, 
Sucji  as  it  is.  it  comes  of  its  own  volition,  making  its 
Mttary  rather  than  being  madi*  by  him.  A  journalist 
may  write  for  one  dollar  or  for  ten  dollars  a  day  what 
certain  people  like  best  to  read,  and  so  make  journal- 
ism a  Imsiness.  In  certain  (juarters  professors! i ins  ot' 
books  and  readini;  are  spoken  of  Instead  of  Icavinu 
the  mind  to  the  natural  dir<'cti<»n  of  itsa[)petitt;,  cvtrv 
particle  of  food  must  be  ]»rescrlbed  by  a  physician. 
But  wlio  is  to  direct  this  director  f  While  <jfuidan<'t 
is  well  for  the  young  and  inexprrienccd,  nolliinu 
sooner  destroys  healthy  appetite  and  stifles  the  natural 
exercise  of  the  facultiis  than  undue  interference. 

"The  truth,"  says  Hammert«>n,  "seems  to  be  that 
literature  of  the  highest  kuid  can  oidy  in  the  most 
exceptional  cases  be  made  a  [)rofession,  yet  thai  ;> 
skilful  writer  may  use  his  pen  professionally  if  he 
chooses.  The  production  of  the  printed  talk  o^  the 
day  is  a  profession,  recjuiring  no  more  than  average 
ability,  and  the  tone  and  ti'nijier  of  ordinary  educat((l 
men.  The  outcome  of  it  is  journalism  and  magazine 
writing." 

Amt»ng   those  who  claimed  that  literature  shoul<l 
not  be  followed  as  a  vocation,  but  ratlu>r  as  a  ))astinie, 
were   Seott,   Suuthey,    Berangir,   and    numy   otliei- 
This  (lei>ends,  however,  on  the  strength  of  the  writt  » 
If  on(>  can  write  like  Scott,  t»ne  need  not  di<'  in  debt 

Byron  und-'istood  p«tetrv  to  be  ati  art.  an  attribuli'. 
but  scouted  the  idea  ef  calling  it  a  j>r(»fession.  I  *l<' 
liot  s;iy  that  mereenai'v  bookwriting  is  not,  or  caniiet 
be  follout'd  ill  some  degree  as  a  profession,  but  this 
is  by  no  lacuuo  the  higher  kind  of  authorslii[>.     Cur 


SUCCESS    IN    LITKUATUKK 


178 


Mt'  says:  "His  is  a  hij^li,  laborious,  uiiroquitod,  or 

..iilv  si'lf-requitcd  endeavor;  wliicli,  iiowovi'r,  by  the 

hiw  of  his  boiiig,  he  is  compelled  to  undertake,  and 

must  prevail  in,  or  he  permanently  wretched ;  nay,  the 

more  wretched,  the  nobler  his  gifts  are.     For  i*^^  is 

tin'  deep,  inborn  elaini  of  his  whole  spiritual  njiture. 

and  will    not,  and    must    n<tt    tjjo    unanswered.     His 

\(iuthf"ul  unrest,  that   '  unrest  of  ociiius,'  often  so  wav- 

ward  in  its  charaeter,  is  the  dim  anticipatioii   of  this; 

tlie  mysterious,  ali-})owerful  mandate,  as  from  h(>aven, 

Til  ]»r('j)are  himself,  to  purify  himself,  for  the  vocation 

wlierewitli  he  is  called."     Few   real  jtoets  Jiave  tliat 

iiisiifiable  craving  for  fame  which  lias  bt'cn  s«»,  ofteii 

iittrii)utcd  t()  them.   A  poi't  knows  himself  to  be  a  [>oet. 

.uid  therewith  is  usuallv  <'oMtcnt.      The  bettiT  class  of 

tlicm  write  as  birds  sing,  liecausi-  they  cannot  heli>  it. 

Jouinalism  and  book-writing  are  ditt'erent  o(cupa- 

tiiins.  and  a  pi^rson  may  i)e  Htted   for  one  and   not  for 

the  other.     Tiie  cHbrt  of  tiie  jourri'dist  is  a  play  upon 

transient  [xjjiular  feeling;  it  is  njoinentarv  morning  or 

(.'Vening  gossiji,  to  be  read  and   forgotten;  the  aim  of 

tin'  wi'iter  of  books  is  to   makti  a  careful  sel  'ction  of 

liis  tacts  and  to  arrange  tluMu  in  a  suitalile   fctrm  for 

jTiiiiaiu'nt  use!.      It  does  not  follow  that   because  a 

iii-iM  has  the  ability  and  jiaticnu't;  to  gather,  sift,  Jind 

.  lassily  historical  data,  h"  can  therefore  writ«.'  a  good 

tiia-a/ine  aiticle.     The  talents  and  training  iiee(h'd  for 

niic  are  ditt'erent  from  those  which  find  sueei'ss  in  tiie 

.'tIki,      Herein  many  havi.;  failed,  not  knowing  why. 

T!i<if  is  a  wid((  difleronce  even  in  the  <jualitios  reipiircd 

fi>r  "laborating  at  leisure  a  review,  and  ti;rowing  (,»IVon 

til-' instant  a   leader  or  a   local   for  a    daily  j(»urnal. 

l']ialioi*ati(»n  ma\"  be,  perliaps.  tlu;  merit  ot  one  and  a 

taiilt  of  the  oilier. 

Ill  the  first  numlur  of  the  Wr.^li/u'ush  r  L'<  ri(  ir  is  an 
taalysis  by  James  Mill  of  the  n)«>re  importiint  writ- 
.iii'.s  [.'ulilished  in  the  l^diiihiiri/l/  h'trifir  from  its  be- 
•.ritiiiinL;.  wliicli  pro(hh'ed  no  small  sensation  at  the 
tiiiic      xVuiung  other  things  he   poiuted  out  the  fact 


174 


I5ATTUK    IJ-,    FKll    sill  LENCLL'.Mi: 


■:.^M 


that  pei'lotlical  literature,  unlike  books,  Jimst  succocd 
iinincdiatt'ly  if  at  all,  and  liciico  must  be  of  a  popul.-n- 
ratlior  than  of  a  jxTuianent  cliaractor.  It  must,  in 
o'oui'ral,  iiaiulcr  to  tlu;  public,  taste  rather  than  attem|)t 
tf)  reform  it.  Hunee  lioncsty  must  be  sacrificed  t) 
ixilicy,  truthfulness  to  success. 

Com[iared  with  the  numbe'i'  of  books  writttMi,  hut 
few  of  them  are  the  jti-oducts  of  what  mi^ht  be  called 
skilled  labf)r.  J^onk-writiivj;  for  the  most  ])art  is  the 
work  of  amateurs.  Few  write  books  wii<»  have  not 
some  other  occupation;  few  adnpt  autliorship  as  a 
business;  few  devote  theii"  whole  time  to  the  writing' 
of  books.  "Oh  tliou  who  art  able  to  write  a  book,' 
exclaims  Teufelsdrockh,  "which  once  in  the  two  c(  ii- 
turies  oi'  oftener  there  is  a  man  gifted  to  do,  eu\  v  iiel 
him  whom  tluN-  nanit;  cii \-builder  and  inexpressililv 
pitv  iiim  whom  tln-v  nac.-.e  roiKjuei'or,  i»r  city-burm  r. 
'I'hou,  too.  art  a  con(|uerer  and  victor;  but  of  the  true 
soj'l.  namely  over  the  devil.  Thou,  tiH>.  hast  built 
wliut  will  outlast  all  marble  and  metal,  and  1k>  a  woii- 
der-brin«'inu"  <  itv  of  the  mind,  a  temple  and  semiuaiv 
and  )-)o|)lietic  mount,  whereto  all  kindreils  vi  the 
earth  will  pil«..^iim." 


Kntl 


lusiasm    intensf  ,    in   IIk!  ♦■yes  of  some   insaix 


undiMli'S  all  li'i'^at  things,  all  yfoo/l  woi-k.  What  will 
not  fanaticism  d(»  for  a  man  '.  If  he  huiiu'crs,  it  feeils 
him:   if  lie  be  ('(,1(1.  it  warms  him  ;   "    b 'ou^ht  to  m.n- 


tvr 


(ioin.  1 


t  1 
•l 


»eai 


s  liim  to  liappier  realm 


'I 


o  >nHHl 


lit- 


erai  v  woi'k  (Mithusiasm   is  essential  :   fanaticism,  fat; 


To  1 


)e 


tuoyed  U|i   and  carried   hapj)ily  forward  ahovc 


storms  and   o 


utfetii 


ai 


id  at  the  same  time  to  li.ivi 


suthcieiit  coolness,  caution,  and  mental  balance  left  to 


avoid  the  maelstroiiis  or  excess  so  destructive  to  \ru- 
turcsome  vovau-ers  on  untried  .seas-  this  is  to  lu'cseivo 
tlu>  ]uip])y  medium.  Enthusiasm  often  supi>lies  Hie 
place  of  ofiiius,  tliouuh  many  ai'e  tired  by  di^ire 
whose  fuel  burns  out  too  soon.  ]*ro\  ided  he  is  not 
a  tool,  an  enthusiast  is  alwavs  interestino-. 


i:\THUSIASM   AN1»   .^XXl'I. 


178 


list  SUCOOOil 
)f  a  populai- 
It  must,  ill 
liaiiatti'iui»l 
sacriticed  U> 

\vriti<>n,  l»ut 
lit  be  called 
]  ])ai-t  is  tlio 
lo  liavi'  lint 
orsliip    as  a 

the  A\  ritiii',' 
•iti"  a  hook, ' 
tlio  two  CCll- 
do,  eiiVV  not 
iu'Npr<'Ssll)ly 

(■ity-l)uni«  r. 
it  of  the  trui^ 
..  hast  Imill, 
1(1  \)v  a  \\>n\- 
11(1  SCI  nil  lit  ry 
Irods   of  the 


mic    iiisaiio, 

What  will 

^■('fs.  it  ti't'iU 

ll'j,ht  to  lltMl'- 
\\,  '^ood  lll- 
t  icisiil,  I'filal. 
rward  ithovc 
iK>  to  have 
ilaiK'c  left  to 
tivc  to  vcii- 
s  to  |)n'S('r\o 
■;u|)|>rK's  the 
d  l)y  dv^'^ve 
•d    he    is  not 


111  crossiiiuj  tilt!  Ali)s,  Na|>ole<tn's  ai'tillery  proved 
too  jieavy  for  the  men.  For  a  time  it  seemed  that  it 
must  he  aliaiidoiu'd.  At  length  the  general  ordeicd 
i(  cliarijie  sounded,  \vhen,  inspired  by  the  familiar  tom.'S, 
up  went  tlio  heavy  j^uns  as  if  lifted  by  unseen  powers. 
It  is  not.  lioAvever,  by  spasms  that  i^reat  things  in  lit 


atui 


e   a 


re   achieved.      The    fire  which   Avarms    and 


jiurilies  intelligence  must  be  kept  at  a  steadier  glow. 
A  etutral  enthusiasm,  indeed,  is  necessary  to  the 
Wcil-lieiiig  of  evei'V  miiii  and  every  woman.  It  niat,- 
ti  rs  ](  ss  ^^  hat  foi'iii  it  takes  tJian  that  it  sliould  exist. 
Thaidv  (lod.theii,  forambitionl  N^'itliout  enthusiasm 
man  is  iiio\'eless  iiiechanisiii,  pi-tons  and  mIkcIs  and 
<c,^s  \vit]i<»ut  pro[>eirnig  [io\\er.  Ainbitioii  is  the 
steam  that  ilri\ts  our  human  ciiiiinerv,  and  tin- hii^lu'r 
tlie  aliiliitioll    the    nobler   the   mail,  t  hoimh  aiiv  <lesir'e 


betler  tlian  tion 


JJettei'  far,"  as  ^Irs  JhoMiiinL:: 


lys.  "  |iur.>iie  ii  frivolous  trade  by  st  rious  means  than 
suhlinu;  art  fri\  nlouslv."     The  moment  eiithusiasin 


mes 


the  W(» 


I'k   ends.      l^verv  heart  must  have  its  wo 


ipfiil 


ideal.     e|>e     I 


t   is  .  nipty    indeed.      The    lo\ver4 


ei'dinary  form  of  this  in>[iiratioii  is  avarice,  the  high 
c-t.  faith. 

Take  from  llu   average  (  iti/eii  the  piissioii  ibr  accu- 
uiulating.  and  you  depri\'e  Iiim  of  his  manhood.      Tal 
tVuiii   the   hereaveti 


\.e 


I    li 


iiidoo  or  Christian  mother  her 
t'aitii.  and  you  hint  out  to  lierthes^  .,  of  heaven.  A 
wise  enthusiasm    brings  with    it  lasting   benefits,  lait 

man 


the  enthusiasm  of  tbllv 


et ti  r  than  none 


A 


i>i  mo 


re  a   man   who  builds    J'isa   tower: 


or  CO 


llect> 


liK'er.sehaum  I'lUes.  tliaii    one 


wl 


lo     I 


Hopes  in  the  <'him- 


ii,  \- 


Corner,  or  panders  to  animal  appetites. 

The  man  of  distempir  or  ennui  should  get  a  hobby 
ami  lide  it.  e\(ii  tlioiiL:!!  the  thing  itself  be  no  more 
wnisome  than  the  plank  to  w  hich  the  tlrowning  man 
<  li;iis.  If  you  would  save  your  life  you  must  anchor 
it  tu  soiiietirmg  more  noble  than  \ours(lt'. 

ib'  will'  from  satiety,  ill  health,  or  other  cause,  has 
invcuvi  rably  lost  all   interest  in    the  affairs   of  this 


ITtl 


HATTHK    LK    FKH   slH    I/KNTIAMK. 


■■* 


'!    ' 


'il' 


World,  i.s  no  hotter  tlian  a  iload  man  :  nay,  lu'  is  worse. 
His  niintl,  sapped  of  its  ambitions,  feeding  on  fancied 
misfortunes,  becomes  infe<'ted  and  infectious.  It  poi- 
sons evorv  other  mind  coming  under  its  inHuencc. 
Woe  hetide  liim  whose  last  great  hope  is  gone.  His 
sun  is  indeed  set.  Twice  dead  is  he,  dea<l  to  the  liv- 
ing and  dead  to  the  dead.  Worse  than  dinid  he  seems 
to  the  actively  living,  his  unappeasetl  shadr  wandt-riic.' 
amidst  the  tasteless  things  of  earth  ns  in  a  prison-yani 
beyond  whose  walls  is  endless  ih'sert.  Occupation  in 
jmrgatory  were  better  than  inability  to  forget  tlir 
past  or  to  improve  the  future.  There  are  <lays  and 
weeks  an<l  months  with  su<'h  an  one  when  the  sky  is 
oven-ast  with  blackness,  when  the  ail'  is  filled  with 
harpies  that  play  discordant  tunes  uj^oii  his  neiv< - 
strings,  and  steal  his  soul-susti'iiance  as  the  f<M)<l  nf 
blind  Phineus  was  stoK-n.  Storm  and  sunshine  alik<' 
wage  war  upon  his  sensibilities.  What  wonder  is  it, 
then,  that  there  appears  between  him  and  nature  so 
deadly  an  antagonism  that  sometimes  lie  deems  it 
better  for  both  that  tlity  shouhl  be  divorced?  From 
<l{iys  barren  of  hope,  from  an  ol<|  age  in  which  the  soul 
has  Motiiiii'''  to  look  forward  lo.  mav  the  ^ods  delivci 
us! 

The  re»duse  habits  of  authors  account  for  much  of 
their  natural  shyness,  though  it  may  as  truthfully  iio 
said  that  shyness  smothering  high  andtitinn  di-ivts 
many  to  the  study  for  the  expression  of  irri'])ressilil(' 
thought.  LTnable  to  mint  the  treasures  of  their  minds 
into  the  rapidly  circulating  coin  of  conversation, 
they  retire,  and  <live  into  pi'ofounder  depths  fni 
pearls  of  u'veatei'  price.  Societv  talk  is  tdiieHv  fir 
pleasure  or  display,  seldom  for  impi'ovement ;  he  who 
is  <'onscious  of  abilities  ab(»ve  the  average  is  unwilliiiL; 
to  Hing  his  best  thoughts  whei'e  they  dro[)  likt'  bulli  ts 
among  the  bubbles  of  the  brilliant  wit  and  shinin>j; 
conversationalist. 

Authors,  as  a  rule,  are  not  the  best  converscrs. 
The  cause  is  obvious.     The  best  thuUiihts  of  a  careful 


L1TEKAU\    LAHOK. 


for  iiuu'li  of 
rut  lif»  illy  1)0 
)iti<)ii  drives 
irr('i>r('s3iltl«' 
T  tlu'ir  luiiHls 


urittT  romo  witli  long  roscarcli  .and  patient  study, 
llr  wliosi'  only  resource  is  the  sj>ontane<»us  How  from 
the  aeeuniulutioiis  of  actual  experience  soon  writes 
liiiiiself  tmt.  The  mills  even  of  genius  refuse  to  grind 
unit  ss  grain  l>e  tlirown  in  at  the  hoppei'.  Days  and 
nights  of  study  bre<'d  hahits  <tf  thought  unfavoi'ahle 
to  wise  gossi[t  and  witty  repartee;  and  on  the  other 
hand,  the  hrilliant  conversationalist  will  seldom  leave 
tlir  fascinations  of  intellectual  cncountoi*  and  closet 
himself  for  a  lifelong  di'udgery.  Tin-  mind,  roused  to 
lis  utmost  endeavor  in  the  study,  droo[»s  in  the  draw- 
int^-room.       "  While  other    men  in    societv    abandon 


tlieir  whole  .souls  to  tln'  to[ties  of  the  moment,"  says 
\Villi;ini  Mathews,  "and.  concentrating  their  energies, 
appear  keen  and  animated,  the  man  of  genius,  who 
has  stirred  tlu'  vast  sea  of  human  hearts  \>y  ]iis  writ- 
ings, feels  a  langu(»r  and  prostration  arising  from  the 
se(  i(  t  toil  of  thought:  and  it  is  only  when  he  has  re- 
cruited J I  is  energies  l»y  relaxation  and  repo.so,  and  is 
(luee  more  in  his  .study,  surrounded  by  those  master 
spirits  with  whom  he  has  so  often  held  ceK'stial  col- 
n(|uy  sublime,  that  his  soul  rekindles  with  enthusiasm, 


aiiii  pours  itself  oil  papi'r  in  thoughts  that  breathe  and 
Wdi'ds  that  burn." 

All  work  which  benefits  our  fellows  is  entitled  to 
ivci.;4nition  and  remuneration,  but  literary  work  per- 
fninied  solely  for  such  reeognitioii  or  remuneration  is 
si'ldoni  beneficial  to  them.  It  is  not  instructive  to  tell 
piople  what  they  like  to  hear  ratlier  than  what  is 
It  is  (juite  ditt'erent,  li\ing  to  write  and  writin 


true. 

tn  li\ 


The  want  of  monev,"  says  llammert 


ton. 


(I" 


IS 


in 


till'  higher  intellectual  pursuits  the  most  common 
liindniiice  to  th<»rougliness  and  excellence  of  work."' 
Il  a  man  can  write  honestly  and  nobly,  and  can  find 
ni(  n  \v1h   will  buv  his  i-ftbrts,  let  him  receive  liis  i)av 


;istl 


P 


h-V 


(H  pnH'ious  men 


hand 


ise 


but  t 

>th 


()  counter- 
I 


icitnpmion  and  [trmeipio  tor  })eeumarv  orotlier  rewan 
is  t(t  prostitute  tlie  soul,  a  crime  as  nuich  greater  than 
the  prostitution  of  the  body  as  the  soul  is  above  the 


JS^WSi    AM)   MlSCEI.I.ANY        12 


I 


^l 


§■ 


ll::: 


t 


ITS 


HATTHK    I.K   FKIl   SUIl   LKNCLUMK. 


l)ody.  Indcoil,  sucli  urtifico  almost  always  betray tj 
tlio  autiior;  tlio  liy|><»crit('  soldoia  long  deceives  in 
literature  any  more  than  elsewhere. 

The  ordinary  ineentives  to  literary  effort  are  found 
li  ss  in  the  proinptinj^s  of  necessity  and  profit  than  in 
]>l({isure,  fame.  Thest;,  or  any  one  of  them,  arc  linked 
with  a  desire  to  sav  soniethhiy:  to  which  the  world 
will  listen,  a  desire  to  give  expression  to  p<'nt-uj> 
thought,  to  find  (»utlet  for  the  surcharged  heart  <ir 
lii-i)in. 

Ijove  of  distinction  is  hut  a  l<>\c  (»f  self,  and  tliougli 
it  sometimes  spurs  the  ardent  aspirer  to  greater  inter- 
est in  mankind,  and  tlience  to  generous  sacrifices,  S(  It" 
still  is  the  .song  and  the  refrain.  He  who  looks  f  ir 
a  reward  for  his  lahor,  other  than  that  which  satislit  s 
the  highest  nspirations  of  the  soul  and  fills  the  mind 
with  fragrant  thoughts,  is  apt  to  meet  with  dis- 
nppointment.  I'nlike  hiise  earthly  soil,  it  is  only  in 
the  hestowal  that  love's  fii'Id  is  fertilized;  arecompensi; 
re(|uir(>d.  and  the  garden  moisture  turns  to  ice.  He 
who  lives  the  intellectual  lite  finds  his  reward  not 
alnoad,  hut  in  heing  ;  he  finds  solact;  not  in  what  nun 
say  of  him,  hut  in  what  he  knows  of  himself  llis 
hap[>iness  is  in  ever  drawing  nearer  that  supreme  in- 
telligence which   he  is  destined  never  fully  to  attain. 

If  hapi»ini'ss  be  the  end  of  life  the  (juestion  is  linw 
most  succi'ssfully  to  pursue  it.  He  who  is  alwavs 
thiidving  of  his  ha})pine.ss  is  never  happy.  The  healthy 
man  is  one  who  is  never  notified  by  his  lungs  or  liver 
that  all  is  well  with  him  to-day.  He  knows  not  that  Iio 
has  an  organisni.  He  who  would  writeand  be  happy  in 
it,  must  not  write  for  happiness,  for  fame,  for  fortune; 
must  write,  not  as  a  means  to  an  end,  but  as  finding  tlio 
end  in  the  means.  Pursue  pleasure  and  you  will  nev.r 
find  it;  pursue  duty  and,  whether  it  be  pleasing  >n- 
not,  nmch  pleasure  may  be  taken  on  the  wing.  AVi' 
all  desire  happiness,  and  yet  so  perverse  and  foolisli 
are  we,  that  unless  secured  in  our  own  way  we  \mv\\i 
beimr  miserable.     The  mi.ser  does  not  wish  to  be  mad"" 


LOVK  OK    KAME. 


179 


liiippy  by  giving,  nor  tlio  drunkard  by  abstinence.  It 
is  through  the  iiidulgoMr«M)f  tlioso  things  wliicli  bring 
us  wiM'  that  we  wisli  to  acliiove  happiness,  else  we 
jui  tVr  tf)  Iiug  our  misery.  Quiot,  health-producing 
wisdom  renders  ardcmt  temperamonts  only  tlie  more 
iiiipiiticiit. 

Up  to  liis  twcMitietli  year  it  liad  l)eon  tlio  life  object 
ot'  .Tolm  Stuart  Mill  to  be,  as  lie  expressed  it,  a  re- 
t'l inner  of  tiie  world.  Sucli  eareful  traininir  had  he 
)( I'cived  from  Ids  father  that  ho  was  tlicn  the  equal 
of  most  scholars  at  forty.  One  dull,  insipid  day  lie 
:i-ked  himself  "  SupiH)so  all  my  objects  in  life  were 
lahzed,  would  I  be  glad  of  it  <"  And  the  irrepres- 
-ililo  "Xo,"  tliat  followed  shivered  his  ideal  structure. 
|{e  tlioui;ht  hims(^lf  living  for  an  end;  he  found  him- 
self living  only  for  present  gratification. 

Nevertheless,  whatever  the  other  [)romptings,  the 
-Icsire  for  fame  is  undoubtedly  present  with  the  writer. 
Says  Richard  Hcniry  Stoddard,  "The  desire  for  fame 
is  one  of  the  highest  by  which  man  is  actuated."  And 
;('4iiiu:  "I  can  conceive  of  ?iothing  grander  than  the 
love  of  fame  by  which  so  many  are  governed."  Such 
\\()rds  scorn  at  variance  with  purity  of  ambition  or 
olovatiou  of  feeling,  for  next  to  money  fanio^er  se  is 
tlu)  lowest  incentive  to  effort. 

What  to  the  dead  Achilles  in  his  gloomy  prison 
iiouse  should  be  the  thought  of  the  unfading  glory 
that  waste  illumine  his  name,  while  in  life,  to  Ulysses, 
wlio  (assayed  him  comfort,  he  made  answer  that  he 
would  rather  be  a  churl's  slave  within  the  sunlight 
tliaii  lord  of  a  universe  of  the  dead. 

"A  man's  conviction  that  justice  will  be  done  to 
liiu!  in  history,"  says  Sir  Arthur  Helps,  "is  a  second- 
ary motive,  and  not  one  which  of  itself  will  comjiel 
liiin  to  do  just  and  great  things."  Goethe  during  the 
latter  part  of  his  life  was  apparently  as  indifferent  to 
tame  as  he  was  impervious  to  flattery.  Probably  he 
had  had  miough  of  both. 

Campbell  professed  to  care  nothing  for  his  reputa- 


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23  WIST  MAIK  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  H'^fO 

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180 


BATTUE  LE  FEE  SUR  LENCLUME. 


l]^ 


tion  as  a  prose- writer,  and  appeared  careless  of  fame 
even  in  regard  to  his  poetry.  To  a  Life  of  Mvs  H'kI- 
doiia  and  a  Life  of  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence,  the  name  of 
*'T.  Campbell  Esq."  was  put  as  author,  though  that 
ease-loving  genius  had  little  else  to  do  with  the  books 
than  to  look  over  the  proof  sheets  as  they  passed 
through  the  press. 

But  tlioujxh  fame  is  not  the  highest  incentive  to 
literary  work,  it  is  as  liigh  as  most  of  us  aspire  to. 
As  the  younger  Pliny  expresses  it:  "Alius  alium, 
ego  beatissimuni  existimo,  qui  bona3  niansurasque 
famae  prsesuinptioue  pcrfruitur,  certusque  posteritatis 
cum  futurii  gloria  vivit." 

As  a  rule  he  who  prints  a  book  professing  indiffer- 
ence to  literary  fame  is  a  simpleton  and  a  hypocrite, 
even  though  he  lack  the  discrimination  to  perceive 
his  own  motives,  and  though  honest  in  his  assevera- 
tions of  indifference  to  public  praise.  So  coy  and 
prudish  may  be  his  blushing  modesty,  that  he  sends 
forth  his  work  anonymously;  yet  the  omission  from 
the  title  page  of  the  author's  name  indicates  a  morbid 
sensibility  upon  the  subject,  which  points  to  egotism, 
affectation,  and  hankering  for  that  which  he  pretends 
to  despise.  For  if  his  anonymous  publication  secures 
praise,  is  ho  not  proud  of  it,  and  does  he  not  tell  his 
friend,  and  finally  all  the  world  ? 

He  who  works  for  fame  alone  deserves  none ;  he 
who  is  wholly  indifferent  to  fame  is  already  near  tlie 
end  of  his  labors.  The  moment  a  person  finds  greater 
pleasure  in  praise  than  in  speaking  the  truth,  ho  is 
fast  losing  his  principles,  if  he  ever  had  any.  Low  is 
the  standard  in  anything,  in  literature  no  less  than  in 
morality,  which  is  reached  and  governed  by  what 
people  will  say.  J3ut  sliam  jirevails,  swaying  most  of 
us,  although  we  know  its  glaring  transparency. 
"  Fame  usually  comes  t»)  those  who  are  thinkini^ 
about  something  else,"  says  Holmes.  Indeed,  he  wlio 
seeks  fame  can  soonest  find  it  by  forgetting  that  he 
seeks  it.     Duty  rather  than  praise  should  be  upper- 


INCENTIVE  TO  LITERARY  LABOR. 


181 


most  in  the  iiiiud  of  the  writer  ;  the  just  rather  than 
the  expedient.  Remember  also  that  literary  fame  is 
seldom  lasting  and  is  scarcely  worth  the  looking  after. 
'•  What  do  they  think  of  Tupper  ? "  asked  some  one  of 
Thackeray.  "  They  do  not  think  of  Tapper,"  was 
the  reply. 

The  true  writer  writes  not  alone  for  fame  or  for  money, 
ho  writes  because  he  has  sonietlung  to  say.  Hunger 
\&  the  incentive  underlying  all  literary  activity.  Bodily 
hunger  has  produced  thousands  of  books;  mind  hun- 
ger, soul  hunger,  other  thousands. 

Poor  indeed  is  the  ambition  which  cannot  sink  self 
hi  the  object  to  be  attained.  Such  is  political  ambi- 
tion, ])lace-seeking,  whose  immediate  and  only  desire 
is  si'lf-gratification.  Such  were  not  the  missionary 
fatliers'  aspirations,  willing  to  wait  until  after  death 
for  their  reward.  Political  ambition  is  pure  selfish 
lu'ss.  Yet  the  enthusiasm  of  politics  is  better  than 
.stale,  flat  emptiness.  Above  this  is  the  ordinary 
trattic  of  the  hour,  in  which  the  pencil-maker,  the 
clothier,  and  the  tobacconist,  more  solicitous  for  the 
rt'putation  of  his  wares  than  his  own,  spends  his  life 
ill  improving  some  trick  or  method  which  he  may 
IcaNo  as  an  heirloom  to  his  son.  A  forgetfulness  of 
self  is  the  direct  means  of  attaining  any  object,  even 
wlieii  tliat  object  is  self-aggrandisement. 

Tliere  is  something  better  in  this  enigmatical  exist- 
t'uco  of  ours  even  than  well-deserved  honor,  and  fairly 
rariied  fame  ;  for  in  tlie  teachings  of  the  Christ  do  we 
Hot  read  that  in  good  deeds  it  is  well  that  the  right 
hand  .should  not  know  the  doings  of  the  left?  To 
ciiihody  in  one's  self  the  good,  to  burn  away  all  hate- 
ful vice  which  as  Cicero  savs,  tliouuh  it  were  con- 
coah'd  from  the  eyes  of  gods  and  men  is  most  per- 
nicious ;  to  hold  with  Seneca  tliat  nobleness  is  none 
the  less  noble  when  prostrate  in  the  dust;  or  with 
othiTs  of  the  porch-philosophers  that  virtue  is  better 
tliaii  fame,  and  that  if  a  man  does  well  it  matters 
httle  whctlier  he  be  known  or  not. 


is;  .    !«!■! 


CHAPTER  IX. 


-  -i  i 


M' 


;:  t 


w  ^ 


SOCIAL  ANALYSIS. 

No  one,  indeed,  wlio  is  onco  led  to  dwell  on  tlie  matter,  can  fail  t<>  see 
ht)W  absurd  is  the  proposition  that  there  can  he  a  rational  interpretation  nf 
men's  combined  actions,  without  a  rational  interpretation  of  those  thouglits 
and  feelings  by  which  their  individual  actions  are  prompted. 

— Herbert  Spencer. 

In  California  we  behold  the  achievements  of  an  in- 
telligent and  exceedingly  well-mixed  population  under 
conditions  nowhere  else  existing.  One  result  will  be  a 
people  on  this  coast  different  from  any  other  on  the 
globe.  The  chosen  specimen  of  manhood  from  among 
all  nations,  they  have  affirmed  their  exceptional  quali- 
ties bv  achievements  both  novel  and  Titanic.  Ra- 
diating  from  the  central  El  Dorado,  they  have  with 
unprecedented  rapidity  transformed  the  Pacific  slope 
from  a  wilderness  and  hunting-field  into  a  number  of 
flourishing  states,  and  have  assumed  the  rcJle  of  civil- 
izing mediums  toward  Spanish  America  and  the  trans- 
oceanic Orient. 

The  combination  of  elements  so  powerful  was  a}>- 
propriately  effected  by  one  of  the  strongest  of 
attractions. 

All  men  love  money  ;  some  for  money's  self,  otlic  is 
for  the  good  or  evil  that  money  will  accomplish.  It 
is  safe  to  say  that  all  mankind,  crave  the  power  that 
money  contributes.  This  is  one  of  the  deep-seated 
impulses  everywhere  found  in  nature,  but  made  intel- 
ligible more  especially  in  the  mind  of  man.  Gotl  is 
all-powerful ;  nature  is  an  eternity  of  contending 
forces;  the  lives  of  beasts  are  a  struggle  for  the  mas- 
tery, and  man  is  ever  in  the  fiercest  of  the  contest. 

Taking  it  all  in  all,  beginning  early  and  continuing 


¥y 


THE  TRIMARY  INCENTIVE. 


183 


r,  can  fail  to  see 


late,  avarice  is  probably  the  strongest  constant  pas- 
sion that  finds  lodgment  in  the  human  breast.  It  is 
more  general,  being  so  far  as  we  can  discern  equally 
powerful  amongst  all  nations,  castes,  and  conditions  of 
men,  ruling  alike  savage  and  civilized,  young  and  old, 
liigh  and  low,  learned  and  ignorant.  TJie  London 
l)auker  covets  Nevada's  silver  not  less  than  the 
Asiatic  launderer;  pure  patriotism  demands  pay  for 
its  services  in  gold  as  persistently  as  the  connnonest 
servitude;  piety  scorns  it  not,  and  even  philanthropy 
esteems  it  for  more  than  one  reason.  There  are  out- 
bursts of  passion  which  for  the  moment  tower  above 
avarice,  but  there  is  no  flame  which  burns  so  uniformlv 
liot  and  steady.  Love  often  rises  superior  to  lucre, 
but  is  sure  in  the  end  to  sink  beneath  it.  And  so 
with  relityious  enthusiasm,  mind-culture,  and  everv 
other  appetite  and  ambition,  however  conspicuous 
they  may  appear  above  the  often  hidden  main  incen- 
tive. Love  of  gold  alone  is  all-powerful,  and  will  so 
continue  as  long  as  gold  remains  the  embodiment  of 
human  good  and  human  greed. 

While  not  in  itself  lovely  or  lovable,  the  yellow 
metal  is  so  intimately  associated  in  our  minds  with 
the  gratification  of  our  desires  as  the  means  for  ac- 
quiring the  lovable  and  pleasurable,  that  we  learn  to 
love  it  for  itself  The  miser  willingly  denies  himself 
the  comfort  it  buys  for  the  mere  pleasure  of  possess- 
ing it.  So  with  love  of  power  and  love  of  praise. 
Seeking  these  first  for  the  benefits  in  their  train,  men 
soon  learn  to  love  them  for  their  own  sake  ;  like  tlie 
cater  of  opium,  who,  partaking  of  the  insidious  drug 
first  to  allay  the  pains  of  disease,  in  time  takes  it  for 
tlie  happiness  it  directly  gives.  With  rusting  millions 
write  they  their  names  with  faint  fingers  upon  the 
seashore  sands,  where  next  morning  their  more 
thoughtful  children  will  search  in  vain  for  any  trace 
of  them,  save  in  hoarded  wealth,  which  obscures 
rather  than  enhances  their  memory. 

Such  were  the  motives  actuating  the  early  comers 


184 


SOCIAL  ANALYSIS. 


.51  i; 


fllD'' 


to  California.  A.iid  now  let  us  examine  the  nature  of 
the  material  for  nation-making  that  came ;  for  thus 
shall  we  gain  two  things,  a  knowledge  of  what  this 
society  now  is,  and  some  idea  of  what  it  will  be. 

Here  was  the  final  point  of  reunion  for  the  human 
race,  after  the  dispersion  on  the  plains  of  Asia,  wlien 
Aryans  turned  westward  on  their  tour  of  conquest 
and  colonization,  leaving  the  Tartars  to  follow  and  to 
overrun  the  celestial  and  Indian  empires.  Now  after 
a  journey  of  four  thousand  years,  during  which  time 
environment  has  been  actively  at  work,coloring  mind 
and  wari)ing  manners,  the  same  brotherhood,  though 
severally  changed  by  circumstances,  meet  upon  tin? 
shores  and  islands  of  the  Pacific,  meet  to  restore  tin; 
mental  equilibrium  of  the  race,  and  to  unify  societ} . 
No  human  event  since  the  parting  is  pregnant  with 
greater  importance  than  the  meeting. 

Incentive  was  added  to  the  influx  by  the  expecta- 
tion of  easy  acquirement,  without  rendering  the  cus- 
tomary equivalent  in  time,  talents,  and  labor.  More- 
over, the  ]ieriod  was  ripe  for  such  movements.  Steam 
liad  elaborated  a  new  and  expeditious  means  for  span- 
ning the  oceans  and  overcoming  many  of  their  still  re- 
pellent monsters.  Political  turmoils  had  roused  the  se- 
date nations  of  Europe  to  deeds  and  enterprise,  and  iiii- 
bued  the  youth  with  a  thirst  for  adventure.  In  nortli- 
ern  America  the  westward  march  of  settlement  had 
been  given  fresh  impulse  by  the  conquest  of  Mex- 
ican border  lands.  Disbanded  soldiers  stood  eauerK' 
|)repared  to  enter  and  reap  the  result  of  their  achieve- 
ments, and  trappers  and  pioneers  had  opened  patiis 
across  the  trackless  continent  to  a  land  already  famed 
as  flowing  with  milk  and  honey. 

Predominant  was  the  English-speaking  element — 
Anglo-Saxon  blood  and  brains  Americanized  by  a 
century  or  two  of  free  thought  and  untrammeled  ac- 
tivity. It  was  but  natural  that  the  masters  of  the 
soil,  by  conquest  and  gradual  pioneer  immigration, 
should  excel  in  number  as  well  as  influence.     Next  to 


CHARACTERISTICS  OF  NATIONALITIES. 


180 


the  Mexicans  they  were  nearest  to  the  borders,  with 
two  oreat  routes  at  their  connnand,  one  by  sea,  pro- 
vided with  all  essential  facilities,  the  other  by  land,  for 
which  they  ab(»vc  all  other  nations  were  well  equipped, 
Thev  possessed,  moreover,  a  marked  advantage  over 
other  nationalities  for  migration  and  colonization,  by 
virtue  of  the  centurv-training  in  backwood  life,  and 
expansion  of  the  frontier  settlements  by  constant  ac- 
cessions from  the  seaboard  states.  Herehi  they  had 
developed  the  practical  ada[)tal)ility  and  self-reliance 
iulierited  from  the  mother  race,  so  much  so  as  to 
surpass  even  that  so  far  preeminent  colonist  element. 

Of  the  English  themselves  and  their  character,  it 
is  not  necessary  here  to  s[)eak  at  length.  The  repre- 
sentative Englisliman  we  know  by  his  grave,  taciturn, 
nietlitative  demeanor,  his  strong  intellect,  his  big, 
l)Ui'ly,  awkward  frame,  and  his  overshadowing  egoism. 
We  know  him  by  his  sound  mind  soundly  bodied ;  by 
his  coarse  energy  bordering  on  brutalitv;  bv  his  re- 
spect  for  law,  for  conventionalities  and  traditions  ;  by 
liis  hatred  of  cant,  and  his  love  of  fairness  even  in 
the  most  brutal  of  his  pastimes.  Having  a  keen  sense 
of  their  own  rights,  the  English  learn  to  respect  the 
rights  of  others — particularly  of  the  strong  and  well 
armed.  They  are  self-willed,  captious  in  their  criti- 
cisms, jealous  in  their  love  of  freedom,  firm  in  the 
maiiitainance  of  general  good  conduct.  In  their 
treatment  of  conquered  provinces,  rights  and  human- 
itv  arc  too  often  ignored,  and  while  pretendinu"  to  the 
highest  benevolence  no  nation  has  ever  surpassed 
tliem  in  acts  of  injustice  and  cruelty.  Though  forc- 
ing; a  deleterious  drug  on  some,  and  firing  others  out 
of  the  mouths  of  cannons,  they  nevertheless  were  the 
til'st  to  take  active  measures  for  the  abolition  of  human 
slavery,  and  many  other  good  works.  Their  mer- 
chants are  noted  for  fair  dealiim',  their  statesmen  for 
a  love  of  riijht,  and  their  women  for  virtue.  Of  all 
nations  they   best  know  themselves,  and  are   by  no 


186 


SOCIAL  ANALYSIS. 


..  f-  i 


I  if-  ^ 


m't. 


means  disposed  to  place  a  low  estimate  upon  their 
mental  or  physical  capabilities.  They  have  produced 
some  of  the  greatest  men  of  genius  the  world  has 
ever  seen,  and  more  of  them  than  any  other  people. 
They  arc  an  exceedingly  busy  people.  As  Montes- 
quieu says  of  them,  "ils  n'ont  pas  le  temps  d'etre  polii-:." 
Being  great  eaters  of  flesh,  tliey  are  somewhat  fero- 
cious for  a  well-tamed  people.  Clearness  of  compre- 
hension characterizes  all  their  investigations;  utility, 
and  strength,  the  products  of  their  hands.  Into  their 
manufactured  articles  they  put  thought  and  substance 
as  well  as  finish,  and  the  consequence  is  that  hi  every 
shop  and  household  in  Christendom,  on  every  table, 
and  in  every  wardrobe,  we  find  something  English. 

The  British  are  a  kingly  race.  A  fifth  of  the  globe 
and  of  its  inhabitants  they  claim,  and  they  have  not 
a  little  to  say  about  affairs  and  the  general  manage- 
ment of  things  on  this  planet.  Broader  in  their  pos- 
sessions than  Rome  in  her  palmiest  days,  they  are 
stronger  than  Spain  ever  was,  because  more  intelligent 
and  free.  Holding  money  and  life  in  as  high  estima- 
tion as  most  other  people,  there  are  yet  with  tlu  in 
sentiments  higher  than  these.  Rather  by  their  char- 
acter, than  by  force  of  arms,  they  give  direction  to 
the  polities  of  half  the  world. 

These  English  traits  were  in  a  measure  common 
with  the  Americanized  Englishman.  There  were  no 
greater  number  of  real  Englishmen  in  California  than 
of  several  other  nationalities ;  not  so  many  as  of  Irish 
or  of  Germans.  Yet  there  were  more  than  was 
apparent  on  the  surface ;  for  speaking  the  same  lan- 
guage as  that  of  the  New  Englander,  the  southerner, 
the  western  border  man,  there  was  less  to  distinguish 
the  Englishman  from  the  Anglo-American,  more  es- 
pecially as  Californians,  of  whatsoever  nationality, 
soon  dropped  into  ways  of  their  own  which  blinded 
the  observer  more  or  less  as  to  their  origin  and  early 
life. 

The  British  colonies   contributed   largely    to  tlie 


EUROPEANS  AND  AMERICANS. 


187 


ire  common 


population  of  California  ;  but  among  these  were  Irish 
and  Scotch  as  well  as  English  ;  yet  they  were  usually 
regarded  as  one  family.  Furthermore,  the  colonial 
clement,  being  made  up  largely  of  a  criminal  class 
from  the  British  penal  settlements,  was  not  regard- 
ed as  permanent  inhabitants.  Some  few  of  them 
did  indeed  avail  themselves  of  this  new  apportion- 
ment of  providence,  became  respectable  citizens,  re- 
mained with  us  and  found  that  where  honesty  was 
witliin  the  reach  of  all,  demanding  so  little  sacrifice 
from  its  votaries,  requiring  of  them  to  bo  but  reasona- 
lily  correct,  to  be  only  superficially  or  pharisaically 
liouest ;  finding  it  so  easy  to  be  called  great  and  good, 
and  profitable  withal,  they  placed  themselves  on  tlie 
Lord's  side,  and  became  loudest  in  the  denunciation 
of  their  old  master  the  devil.  Indeed,  if  many  a  good 
man  has  been  hurried  to  perdition  from  California, 
many  a  bad  one  has  ascended  thence  to  heaven. 

Next  to  the  English-speaking  population  in  Cali- 
fornia, in  early  days,  were  the  Spanish-speaking,  native 
Culifornians,  Mexicans,  and  South  Americans.  But 
tliese  too,  like  the  uncongenial  elements  from  British 
penal  colonies,  were  not  destined  to  remain  perma- 
nently, nor  to  any  great  extent  to  mix  their  blood 
with  that  of  fresher  arrivals  from  Europe,  and  from 
the  eastern  United  States,  in  the  engenderintj  of  this 
new  nation.  The  new  comers  were  too  shrewd  for 
them,  too  unscrupulous.  They  beat  them  at  monte, 
they  surpassed  them  at  cattle-stealing,  at  whiskey- 
(hiidving ;  they  swindled  them  out  of  their  lands,  se- 
duced their  wives  and  daughters,  and  played  the  mis- 
chief generally.  They  were  a  wicked  lot.  Harassed 
and  chagrined,  many  of  these  children  of  the  Latin 
nice  gave  the  land  over  to  the  philistines,  and  de- 
juirted  for  countries  where  wits  were  tamer,  and  early 
rising  unfashionable.  But  out  of  no  such  precarious 
or  coarse  fabric  as  this  mongrel  stock  was  to  be  spun 
the  warp  and  woof  of  our  new  civilization.     There 


i   1 


umM 


■P7' V'    ^'      ■■ 


188 


SOCIAL  ANALYSIS, 


were  Spaniards  of  pure  blood,  with  their  families  al- 
ready upon  the  ground,  destined  to  exercise  no  small 
influence  in  the  formation  of  the  government,  and  in 
the  assimilations  of  society,  but  these  were  far  diti'ei- 
ent  material  from  the  dusivy, mixed  breeds,  which  dur- 
ing the  past  centuries  have  prevailed  largely 
throughout  the  Spanish-speaking  territories  in  tln' 
two  Americas. 

After  these  I  would  place  in  numerical  order  tJio 
Germans,  French,  cockney  English,  and  Italians,  with 
a  fair  peppering  of  black  men.  Of  Scandinavian  and 
Slavonic  stocks  there  were  not  so  n»any.  Asiatics,  and 
South  Sea  islanders  varied  in  nund)er  from  originally 
few  to  latterly  more  than  any  other  one  race. 
Hawaiian  islanders  were  plentiful  at  first,  but  too 
tender  for  the  rough  morals  which  obtained  liert;  at 
that  time. 

None  of  the  dark-skiimed  peoples  have,  from  paucity 
of  number  or  lack  of  recognition,  been  able  to  leave  any 
marked  impression  on  the  social  mixture.  Selfish  in 
hii-  i)ride  of  race,  the  Anglo-Saxon  is  apt  to  sriiii 
closely  any  differentiation.  While  welcoming  freely 
even  low  classes  so  long  as  they  are  white,  he  shrinks 
from  the  dusky  hue  which  he  has  been  taught  to 
despise  in  the  abject  subordination  and  mental  infe- 
riority of  the  African  and  Indian.  Hence  he  also  held 
aloof  from  the  first  from  the  Mongolian,  and  when 
the  latter  displayed  his  caliber  in  remaining  at  the 
nmdsill  and  back  door,  the  aversion  grew.  Politieal 
and  economic  reasons  have  widened  the  gulf,  and  tlh^ 
celestial  dwells  here  a  stranger,  to  add  his  leaven  only 
as  ail  industrial  factor.  The  Indian  does  not  wield 
even  this  influence,  exiled  as  he  is  to  secluded  reser\  a- 
tions,  or  hovering  an  outcast  along  the  frontier  settle- 
ments.    The  negro  rests  content  in  his  assigned  sphere. 

For  conspicuous  traits  and  effects  we  must  look  to 
the  inherited  or  adopted  characteristics  of  the  Teuton 
and  Latin  races.     We  love,  and  our  older  brothers  of 


( OMrAUATn  K  VUALITIKS. 


En^laiid  love,  to  draw  comparisons  and  parade  each 
tliiir  faiici(xl  suporiority.  1  must  confess  I  fail  to 
distinguish  tlie  radical  differences  many  would  make 
upparent.  In  physique  we  of  the  newer  Eni^land 
liave  been  made  somewhat  thinner  and  keener-edged 
])V  reason  of  our  assiduous  striving;  while  they  of  tlie 
{(lu'ii'iit  isle,  fattened  under  the  paternal  roof,  and 
made  less  zealous  by  fewer  and^itions,  fewer  responsi- 
hilities,  assume  sleeker  and  more  oily  proportions. 
]jikcwise  with  the  swelling  of  their  bodies  tjieirminds 
became  somewhat  infiat(>d,  while  we  of  the  untamed 
west,  whatever  our  successes,  have  been  k(>pt  hund)le 
by  tlie  very  magnitude  of  our  ventures,  and  by  the 
democratic  influence  of  the  back-woods. 

As  for  our  nation.vl  brag,  I  think  we  Ancjlo-Ameri- 
cans  may  justly  assert  that  the  characteristic  energy 
and  ]ienchant  for  utility  of  our  f(»refathers  has  not 
diminished  hi  our  hands.  As  in  a  new  country  there 
is  always  more  room  for  the  exercise  of  native  skill 
and  euterjirise  than  in  satisfied  societies  with  fixed 
]ial)its,  so  wo  may  safely  claim  to  have  employed 
faculties  of  no  mean  order,  in  no  mean  mamier.  Wo 
lie  not,  however,  now  as  formerly  claim  all  the  arl- 
vance  made  during  this  nineteenth  century,  but  we 
are  willing  to  give  England,  France,  and  Germany 
tlieir  share  of  credit.  Great  were  our  expectations 
and  great  our  realizations ;  as  histanced  by  the  un- 
})aridleled  growth  and  prosperity  of  the  republic,  the 
ac((uired  excellence  in  so  many  branches  of  industry, 
and  the  success  of  democratic  government — shining 
exani[)les  in  all  their  essential  features  to  the  strug- 
«j,Tmg  masses  of  the  world.  Even  the  bloodv  struu^le 
<it  the  union  war  taught  a  lesson  in  pointuig  to  the 
bravery  and  perseverance  with  which  ]>rinciple  was 
upheld,  the  moderation  with  which  victory  was  cele- 
brated, and  the  admirable  recuperation  following  so 
great  a  struggle. 

Innumerable  senseless  forms  in  government,  law, 
ethics,  and  everv-dav  intercourse  we  have  to  some 


lOO 


SOCIAL  ANALYSIS. 


\  M 


(1 ' 


il.:^   1  ''y 


V     i 


■: 


f'f'i  ;  ■'' 
if'  ■  f  t 


extent  eliminated,  and  there  are  many  more  which 
a  progressive  people  might  dispense  with  ;  l)ut  super- 
stition elsewhere  has  likewise  been  on  the  wane.  Ours 
arc  not  the  only  eyes  from  which  have  dropped  scale:* 
during  these  latter  days. 

lioligion,  or  rather  tin;  lack  of  it,  is  having  its  influ- 
ence on  California,  no  less  than  race  agglutiimtions. 
Puritanism,  tlie  little  of  it  that  left  New  England, 
evaporated  before  reaching  these  shores,  or  else  dwin- 
dled into  cant,  and  was  quickly  expelled  from  good 
society.  Sectarians  put  on  a  new  face,  and  spoke  low. 
Orthodoxy  began  to  ask  <juestions,  and  many  gave  up 
praying  as  senseless  and  unprofitable.  Even  Catholi- 
cism had  to  reform  its  diet,  finding  the  richer  fot)d  of 
fatted  sui)erstitions  ill-agreeing  with  the  new  organism. 
The  skies  of  California  were  too  clear  for  the  old 
mystic  credulity,  and  its  air  too  pure  to  harbor  unseen 
hob<roblins.  Hell  was  brought  to  the  surface  of 
thitigs,  where  all  might  analyze,  and  then  embrace  or 
avoid  according  to  inclination  or  character.  Heaven 
dropped  from  tlie  skies,  and  mapped  its  celestial  city 
in  tlie  human  heart,  showing  its  presence  by  clearness 
of  eyes,  and  by  honest  speech. 

But  with  our  wide  freedom  of  thought,  and  our 
spirit  of  toleration,  we  have  opened  the  door  to  divers 
isms  which  creep  snake-like  abou  the  heels  of  progress. 
For  the  most  part  they  are  fangless,  however,  and 
scarcely  worth  the  trouble  of  crushing.  It  is  a  great 
comfort  to  most  men  to  make  fools  of  themselves  in 
some  way ;  and  however  sickening  to  sensitive  minds 
may  be  spiritualism,  salvationism,  free-loveism,  and 
the  rest,  they  are  here  regarded  as  the  foul  wayside 
beast  which  the  traveller,  who  holds  his  breath  while 
passing,  quickly  leaves  behind.  The  true  philanthro- 
pist, the  liberty  lover,  the  promoter  of  tolerant  ideas, 
may  here  find  work  enough  to  do  without  doing  battle 
upon  those  social  ulcerations  which  erratic  physicians 
delisfht  in.    Better  to  give  attention  to  the  abnormities 


resulting  from  indiscriminate 


admission  of  low  foreign 


AMKRKANS    IN   VARIATION'S. 


101 


oloiiieiits  into  tlic  i)oj)ulati()ii  and  |)artici|>atioii  in  the 
;r,)Vt'rnincnt;  from  the  expansion  of  monopolies  which 
suck  tlie  life-blood  out  of  tlie  people;  and  from  the 
iipposini^  orjjianizations  which,  in  their  blind  hostility, 
threaten  to  involve  the  country  ui  disorders. 

Herein  may  be  soujjflit  one  reason  for  the  spirit  of 
(li.sconteiit.  wliicli  marks  tlie  character  of  the  Ameri- 
( iiiiized  Englishman,as  contrasted  with  his  former  self- 
satisfaction  over  the  water.  This  is  particularly 
i.bscrvablc  in  his  social  aspirations.  Ho  is  less  in  love 
witli  liis  liome,  with  tin-  family  mansion  and  its  sur- 
roundings. ])articularly  if  it  be  dilapidated,  and  without 
iwenue,  takes  less  pride  in  tlie  family  portraits,  espe- 
I  ially  in  faded  photographs,  and  in  family  plate,  wliicli 
is  too  often  pewter.  He  wishes  to  make  his  mark  in 
the  world,  and  is  not  so  particular  as  to  its  co^or  or 
sitjjnificance,  so  long  as  it  is  loud  and  glaring.  Old 
tustonis  lit'  cares  little  for,  and  still  less  for  old  cos- 
tumes. In  Imping  and  selling  he  likes  quick  trans- 
actions, preferring  often  a  ready  mo'iey  loss  to  a 
long-winded  profit.  The  Anglo-American  is  the 
Anglo-tSaxon  retorted  and  galvanized. 

Tlie  Yankee,  with  his  practical  sagacity  and  enter- 
prise, seasoned  by  a  Puritanic  spirit,  and  sustained  by 
the  bracing  and  frugal  training  of  a  less  indulgent 
environment,  finds  a  stronger  contrast  in  the  south- 
erner, with  his  tinge  of  aflTectation  and  chivalry,  inher- 
itifl  to  some  degree  from  the  French  colonist  neighbor, 
and  with  the  Creole  indolence  bom  of  a  warmer  climate 
and  pernicious  slavery.  A  representation  of  this  type 
is  tlie  Yirtjinian. 

Without  the  tincture  of  chivalry  from  Virginia,  the 
social  mixture  in  California  would  have  been,  perhaps, 
more  nmddy  and  mercenary  than  it  was.  F.  F.  V.'s, 
first  families  of  Virginia,  every  one  of  these  dubious 
scions  dubbed  himself.  So  numerous  were  claimants 
to  this  distinction  that  one  could  but  wonder  if  all  the 
families  of  Virginia  were  first;  for  if  the  immigrant 
had  been  reared  in  a  pigsty,  and  was  unable  to  write 


lit'J 


SOCIAL  ANALYSIS. 


':■  1  I. ' 

-l(  Vi     ' 


■A  ■  n 


Wr'IV: 


liis  name,  lie  still  swo^j  his  blood  was  blue,  while  his 
breath  told  of  its  alcoholic  warnitiL  Brave  as  were 
the  Californians,  there  were  none  so  daring  as  to  deny 
to  any  the  right  of  nominating  himself  F.  F.  A\ 

It  was  from  the  withered  and  unseasoned  hope  of 
the  Spendthrift  Fathers  of  fifty  years  ago  that  Cali- 
fornia derived  many  of  her  first  families.  Sons  of 
silk-stockinged  sires,  powdered  and  peruked  old  fel- 
lows, in  butt'  vest,  rufHed  shirt,  top  boots,  and  shorts, 
of  noonday  toddy-takt-rs,  of  blood  boasters  pugilistic- 
ally  ])roud  of  tlieir  lineage  and  of  themselves,  tiu- 
youi'g  men  from  botli  north  and  south  of  IVTason  and 
Dixon's  line  came  hither,  brinuinu;  with  them  a  crush- 
inu*  ciHirtesv  wliirli  savored  stron^lv  of  rum,  tobacco, 
saltj)etr'e,  and  the  stable.  Their  })()liteness  was  quite 
tlitlerent  from  tlii!  French  article  ;  it  was  more  sincere, 
more  real,  but  h^ss  artistic  and  finishetl.  Their  tongue 
betraved  tln'ii"  several  i)laces  of  birth,  and  tliou<>h  tliev 
called  themselves  educated,  their  knowledge  had  not 
much  learnii\g  in  it.  1'heir  culture  had  been  empiri- 
cal, and  their  mamiei'  was  now  prcnincial.  There 
had  been  hitherto  nothing  broad  or  Parisian  in  their 
experiences,  antl  their  conceptions  of  greatness  were 
narrowed  to  an  idea.  To  have  bec>n  born  in  this  ])lace 
or  that  was  good  luck  enouu,h  for  anv  n^an  ;  and  e\- 
cept,  unfortunately,  their  native  land  was  part  of  tlu' 
world,  they  might  decline  relationship  with  the  re- 
maimler  of  tlic;  race. 

If  this  intense  egotism  and  provincial  vanit}' can  be 
called  patriotism,  then  was  this  somewhat  small  and 
si'lect  class  patriotic.  They  might  travel,  but  not 
with»»ut  carrying  their  birtli-))lace  with  them,  and  if 
their  whole  state  was  too  nmch  for  the  measure  of" 
tluMr  intellect,  then  a  piece  of  it,  the  particular  and 
hallowed  dirt  out  of  which  they  were  nunle,  would  do. 
Yi't  wherever  thev  went,  all  the  world  nmst  know 
where  thev  wen*  from. 

These  scions  of  decayed  gentility  were  themselves 
a  little  seedy  in  California.     Though  their  manners 


SOME  PHASKS  OF  CHARACTER. 


193 


,  while  his 
ve  as  we  10 
as  to  deny 

ed  hope  of 
that  Cah- 
Sons  of 
od  old  fel- 
mid  shorts, 
i  pugilistic- 

iSl'lvi'S,    tlu' 

Mason  and 
>ni  a  crush- 
ni,  tobacco. 
s  was  quite 
loiv  sinc(>rc, 
heir  tongue 
,]ioujj;h  tiu-y 
lire  had  not 
,K'en  cnipiri- 
ial.     Thciv 
m  in  their 
[itncss  wiiv 
11  this  J)! ace 
n ;  and  ox- 
cart of  the 
itii  the  le- 
nity can  he 
sn\all  and 
'1,  hut    not 
icm,  an<l  it 
noasure  ot 
:icular  and 
would  do. 
|nu>t  know 

thenisclvos 
ir  manners 


never  left  them  so  long  as  they  were  sober,  their 
clothes  sometimes  did.  As  they  were  not  equal  to 
Vaid<ee  shrewdness  in  traliic,  and  being  constitution- 
aHv  ojtposed  to  manual  labor,  the  black  coat  and 
ojovts  which  they  had  brought  from  home  soon  be- 
came shabby,  and  in  due  time  a  gray  flannel  shirt  was 
not  unaccej)table. 

In  connnon  with  all  first-comers,  most  of  them  were 
obliged  to  go  to  the  mines.  To  root  the  ground  lik(^ 
a  rat.  and  cook  beans  like  a  wench  were  fearful  humil- 
iations, but  unavt)idable.  It  was  gold  and  not  ruta- 
bagas they  dug;  and  work  over,  was  there  not  pleasun; 
to  be  pursued  in  cards,  horse-racing,  and  Sunday  pis- 
tolings  and  bowie-knife  practice? 

AViiat  many  of  them  delighted  in,  what  nature,  in 
his  own  estimation,  had  best  fitted  them  for,  was  to 
Hill  ])id>lic  offices.  Ask  one  of  them  what  business  he 
best  understood,  and  with  Diogenes  he  would  answer, 
"How  to  command  men."  The  judicial  bench  he  d(>- 
hdited  in.  He  found  it  better  to  tend  iail  than  to 
herd  swhie.  The  legislative  hall,  with  a  flush  lobby, 
and  scores  of  axe-grinding  rooms  contiguous,  with 
free  htjuors  and  cigars,  was  not  the  most  disagrei^able 
of  ]»hu'es  during  the  nmddy  winter ;  nor  did  he  disciain 
tliv  gubernatorial  chair.  He  was  born  to  rule,  and 
the  clnef  utility  of  the  rest  of  the  rac^  was  to  live 
tliat  they  nngiit  be  ruled  by  him.  To  smoke,  and 
talk,  to  swear  politely,  and  swing  his  dirk  gracefully, 
to  sit  benignly  in  all  the  lucrative  ])lacesof  honor  and 
trust,  were  the  chief  ends  of  man  in  Califoi'uia. 

Infortunately  for  this  class  the  Pike  county  miner 
iuul  tlu;  New  England  trader,  the  men  of  Sydney,  oi' 
Asia,  and  of  Tip})erary  did  not  wish  to  be  bothered 
with  a  too  gentlemanly  jn!is[)rudence  or  exc(>ssivo 
societv  rules  during  their  dusty  scrand)le.  They  had 
110  use  for  a  master.  They  v.anted  u'old,  not  oovern- 
I'leiit.  8o  the  American  nobleman,  finding  his  occu- 
paiioii  gone,  was  constrained  to  remove  his  shabby 
hlack  coat  and  kid  gloves  and  go  to  work.     But  wjieu 

l:ssAVS  AND  MlSCKI.LANY       l;; 


m  '  5^ 


sr  i 


m 


mr  f. 


,m!:i 


ir 


194 


SOCIAL  ANALYSIS. 


digging  grew  unprofitable,  uninteresting,  and  monoton- 
ous; or,  rather,  the  moment  he  was  able,  he  bought 
a  new  coarse  white  shirt,  resumed  his  shiny  black 
coat,  thin  tight  boots,  and  shabby  gloves,  and  mount- 
ing a  city-bounc  stage  again  sought  a  position  where 
he  might  fulfil  his  high  destiny. 

But  with  all  their  intense  egoism  and  patriotism, 
this  class  did  much  for  California.  Those  from  the 
south  brought  in  their  true  chivalry  and  laid  it  beside 
the  ill-favored  beast,  avarice.  They  brought  us 
genuine,  though  somewhat  slovenly  politeness,  and 
laid  it  beside  the  counterfeit  though  highly  polished 
French  article.  They  brought  in  deep  human  sym- 
pathy, which  had  it  been  broader  would  have  been 
Christ-like. 

The  true  American  man,  from  whatever  quarter, 
displays  kindness  and  consideration  in  many  ways, 
and  his  words  are  not  hollow.  He  has  his  own  notions 
of  thrift  and  labor,  and  he  is  not  ostentatious  in  his 
morals ;  on  the  other  hand  his  features  are  not  con- 
torted by  prudish  piety,  and  if  he  has  less  of  tlio 
form  of  charity  than  Spaniards,  we  find  in  him  more 
of  the  substance.  Without  the  treacherous  simplicity 
of  the  Mexican  he  can  save  himself  from  imposition ; 
he  can  exorcise  shrewdness  without  meanness.  If 
the  Mexican  cheats  you  of  your  money  he  does  it  in 
a  gentle  way,  such  as  borrowing  without  any  idea  d 
ever  returning.  He  will  lend  to  you  with  equal  lib- 
erality— if  he  has  it,  which  is  seldom  the  case;  but 
no  matter  how  needy,  he  will  not  stoop  to  the  low 
tricks  of  law-abiding  swindlers. 

To  California  the  Virginian  brought  with  his  vast 
store  of  unwritten  politics  his  Richmond  Whig  and  liis 
Richmond  Enquirer,  which  he  read  and  quoted  as  in- 
dis[)utable  authorities  on  all  points  of  law,  reliuion, 
and  social  ethics.  So  long  as  science  and  holy  wi't 
did  not  run  counter  to  the  assertions  of  these  journals 
they  might  be  believed,  but  not  longer.  The  authors 
o*"  the   bible  were  net  Virginians,  and  all  there  was 


FIRST  FAMILIES  OF  VIRGINIA. 


195 


in  science  the  Richmond  journals  knew  and  told ;  if 
the  sun  rose  contrary  to  their  calculations,  there  was 
something  wrong  about  the  sun;  it  surely  had  made 
Home  mistake  in  its  reckoning. 

Moreover,  for  the  patriots  Virginia  has  given  to  the 
commonwealth,  our  country  should  be  grateful.  Her 
orators  and  statesmen  were  of  a  higher  order  than 
tliosc  from  any  other  quarter.  They  were  more  mag- 
lumimous,  more  purely  patriotic,  less  selfish,  less  hypo- 
( litical  and  mercenary,  were  manly  and  noble.  She  has 
ahvays  talked  wisely  and  well,  better  in  fact  than  she 
lias  done.  But  her  dilatoriness  in  action  was  not  the 
result  of  deceit,  but  rather  of  indifference  to  money 
and  material  progress. 

In  regard  to  their  social  propensities  the  Virginians 
were  the  same  in  California  as  at  home,  eminently 
liumane,  hospitable,  and  companionable.  And  by 
nature  no  loss  than  by  training  were  they  proficient 
in  the  art  of  pleasing,  high-spirited,  and  sensitive  as 
to  their  reputation  under  the  code,  though  exceptions 
niio'ht  be  taken  to  some  of  their  ethical  forms  and 
(kjotrines.  Most  admirable  in  them  is  the  genuine- 
ness of  their  character.  Imperfect  as  it  may  be  in 
many  respects,  they  are  never  ashamed  of  it,  nor  do 
they  try  to  hide  or  color  any  part  of  it. 

Of  all  men,  most  reverential  were  the  Virginians; 
reverent  as  to  law,  divinity,  medicine,  and  all  the  old 
customs  and  traditions.  It  is  natural  to  those  who 
arc  courteous  and  considerate  toward  humanity  to  be 
courteous  and  considerate  in  regard  to  all,  human  and 
divine.  All  things  in  the  eyes  of  tlic  reverential  man 
are  reverential.  In  California  the  law,  tliough  weak, 
Avas  worshipful ;  the  doctor's  pill-bag  was  worshipful; 
and  so  was  the  minister's  desk,  the  monte-dealer's 
table,  and  the  counter  over  which  fiery  comforts  were 
dispensed.  The  free-and-easy  female  flower  of  the 
city  or  camp  was  a  Dulcinea  del  Toboso,  beside  whoso 
virtue  that  of  no  one  was  more  stainless.  All  women 
were  angels;  and  if  some  were  fallen,  all  the  more 


196 


SOCIAL  ANALYSIS. 


need  had  they  of  a  kind  word  from  a  live  gentleman. 
The  Virginian  in  California,  or  elsewhere,  was  ne\  cr 
a  quack,  charlatan,  or  sham. 

To  California  the  Virginians  were  sugar  rather  than 
salt.  They  acted  as  a  fine  flavor  to  a  new  settlement, 
but  as  practical  pioneers  they  were  inferior  to  wor^o 
men.  Their  early  isolation,  remote  from  any  of  tlio 
world's  great  highways  of  traffic,  their  lack  of  business 
experience,  their  credulity,  which  made  them  belio\  o 
all  men  as  lionorable  as  themselves,  their  habits,  tastes, 
and  training,  and  the  rosy  hues  in  which  their  sanguine 
temperament  colored  schemes  and  speculations,  niai'e 
them  an  easy  prey  at  once  to  their  own  illusions,  and 
to  the  snares  of  designing  men. 

At  the  heels  of  aspiring  Irishmen  clung  closely  a 
quality  which,  partaking  of  little  of  their  good  charac- 
teristics, displays  to  excess  their  inferior  traits,  and  by 
virtue  of  its  services  in  the  political  field  clamors  loudly 
for  a  share  in  the  spoils.  The  Celts,  so  all-pervading 
in  the  United  States,  brought  to  the  Pacific  coast 
their  pugnacious  as  well  as  vivacious  mind,  their  ener- 
getic but  akj  boistert)US  disposition.  On  the  farm 
they  contribute  an  admirable  quota  to  developinc  nt, 
but  a  large  proportion  lingers  unfortunately  in  tic 
towns  to  pollute  the  political  arena,  and  to  form  in  the 
low  outskirts  a  social  quagmire  whence  spreads  foul 
disorders.  The  pungency  of  the  Irish  element  p(  r- 
vades  too  strongly  even  its  many  commendable  fea- 
tures to  make  it  so  desirable  as  those  from  the  other 
adjoining  nationalities  of  Europe. 

Rousseau,  who  seems  troubled  that  the  English 
should  prove  so  proud,  pronounces  the  French  vain. 
"L' Anglais  a  les  prejuges  de  Torgueil"  he  says,  "tt 
Ics  Francais  ceux  de  la  vanite."  From  whicli  one 
would  infer  that  this  most  chaste  Swiss  believed  the 
pride  of  the  English  to  rest  upon  something  while  tJiat 
of  the  French  did  not. 

Now  the  En<j:lish  no  doubt  are  a  solid  nation,  di^'a- 


THE  MERCURIAL  GAUL. 


197 


was  ne\cr 


cTiocably  substantial  sometimes,  and  the  French  are 
sui)crficial,  effervescent,  inconstant,  fascinatingly  so. 
\et  as  this  life  goes,  more  particularly  as  life  in  Cali- 
fornia is  shaping  itself,  we  could  not  get  along  without 
tlic  qualities  supplied  only  by  the  mercurial  Gaul.  We 
do  nt)t  want  our  mundane  existence  all  cast  iron  and 
stone.  Give  us  a  little  of  the  gilt  and  glitter  that 
])liaso  children  withal,  and  let  our  sunshine  be  softened 
Ity  something  less  gloomy  and  opaque  than  London 
fo<''. 

Tlic  world  of  humanity  has  been  divided  by  certain 
lionic-fcd  philosophers  into  two  parts,  Imman  nature 
and  French  nature.  Now,  if  the  Gallic  people,  in  their 
iai)idity  of  thought,  their  inflammable,  tumultuous 
activity,  their  caprices,  inconsistencies,  and  contradic- 
tions, display  a  variegated  whole  which  might  be  called 
a  distinct  species  of  human  nature,  that  species  is  re- 
quired in  California,  where  we  are  planting  a  new  and 
couii)lete  civilization.  If  the  African  and  the  Asiatic 
jiossess  valuable  qualities  or  characteristics  which 
other  nationalities  cannot  lay  claim  to,  we  might  even 
^vis]l  the  mass  seasoned  with  these  spices.  English 
solidity  and  stolidity  do  well  as  a  base,  better  by  far 
tlian  any  other  element  evolution  has  yet  revealed ; 
hut,  good  and  invaluable  as  they  are,  no  wise  builder 
of  a  commonwealth  would  reject  other  material  for 
his  structure. 

Everything  must  be  proportioned  here  for  a  future. 
Wc  want  under  Californian  skies  some  of  the  old 
Athenian  flexibility  of  mind  and  heart  found  only  in 
tlic  French  people.  We  want  their  refined  manners 
Nvitli  which  .  .often  and  tone  common  intercourse, 
and  tino;e  with  eletjance  social  reunions.  We  want 
their  gaicte  dc  cco7ir,  their  happy  manner,  their  lively 
pastimes,  and  their  sprightly  conversation. 

We  will  take  lessons  from  them  in  soldiery  if  we 
descend  to  such  brutalizing  pastimes  as  war;  we  will 
take  lessons  from  them  in  the  delicacy  and  finish  of 
their  manufactured  articles,  in  the  endurance  of  their 


198 


SOCIAL  ANALYSIS. 


Hi: 


!!  ;i^r 


V  ''  ■\ 


drudgery,  in  the  harmonious  enjoyment  of  Hfe,  and 
in  the  cut  of  gear  as  well  as  gait.  More  grace  may 
be  seen  in  the  costume  and  carriage  of  a  French  peas- 
ant woman  than  can  be  found  in  the  average  Enghsli 
woman  of  rank.  These  things  are  not  to  be  despised, 
for  women  love  them,  and  men  love  women.  Next 
to  the  poetry  of  mind  is  the  poetry  of  manners ;  next 
to  artless  grace,  graceful  art. 

Heartless  intrigue  and  virtue's  masquerade  we  will 
do  well  to  leave  in  France;  and  with  them  the  Frcncli- 
man's  proverbial  giddiness  and  insincerity.  I  do  not 
say  that  as  a  race  Frenchmen  are  frivolous  or  hypocrit- 
ical. But  their  politeness,  or  anything  else  about 
them,  is  not  very  deep,  or  earnest,  or  substantial. 
They  are  volatile,  full  of  effervescent  feeling  which 
passes  off  with  the  effects  of  their  claret.  They  are 
too  apt  to  be  carried  away  by  whatever  is  nearest 
them.  Yet  with  all  their  faults  the  French  are  greatly 
to  be  esteemed. 


m 


ii\.- 


With  the  inspiriting  fumes  of  light-headed  national- 
ities, the  deep,  phlegmatic  humor  of  the  German  min- 
gles profitably.  Amidst  the  intellectual  convulsions 
•  of  other  nations,  firm  upon  his  broad  platform  of  uni- 
versal knowledge,  he  stands  secure.  More  than  any 
other  people  the  Germans  separate  fects  from  ideas. 
To  their  early  love  of  nature  and  of  physical  enjoy- 
ment are  now  added  mind  culture  and  the  refined 
subtleties  of  metaphysical  speculation.  Nowhere  do 
we  find  more  patient  application,  deeper  study,  broader 
intelligence,  or  more  thorough  learning. 

All  our  Yankee  individualism  and  love  of  personal 
independence  came  to  us  through  the  British  nation 
from  Germany.  For  stolid  bravery  and  stolid  virtue 
we  may  safely  commend  the  German  nation.  Tliat 
which  amuses,  captivates  the  Italian;  that  wliiih 
touches,  affects  the  French ;  that  which  instructs, 
moves  the  German. 

Then  there  is  the  proud,  pompous  Spaniard,  who, 


THE  ANTIQUATED  SPANIARD. 


100 


if  he  be  now  of  but  little  practical  utility  in  the 
scheme  of  a  progressive  commonwealth,  can  at  least 
boast  of  what  he  has  been.  He  can  point  to  his 
faded  grandeur,  to  the  land  of  lost  greatness,  where, 
if  you  have  eyes  for  the  teaching  of  human  unfoldings, 
you  may  discover  the  reasons  for  Spain's  unhappy 
dissolution. 

More  especially  is  this  nation  endowed  with  inter- 
est for  Californians,  as  the  source  of  o'lr  history.  It 
w;is  before  the  spirit  of  chivalry  had  wholly  departed 
from  lier  shores,  when  gallant  men  made  love  to 
gr.ifeful  women,  that  under  the  banner  of  loyalty  and 
superstition  Spain  sent  forth  her  sons  to  deeds  of 
Now  World  daring.  And  in  this  New  World  are 
now  many  able  minds  and  stout  hearts,  who  regard 
with  mournful  regret  the  policy  of  short-sighted  priests 
tmd  rulers,  which  sapped  the  energy  and  ambition  of 
the  Spanish  people,  and  left  them  bankrupt  indeed, 
when  progress  stripped  the  black  veil  of  bigotry  in  a 
sJiglit  measure  from  their  eyes. 

In  an  eminent  degree  they  may  now  boast  of  the 
two  qualities  which  Spinoza  denounces  as  the  great 
banes  of  humanity,  self-conceit  and  laziness.  As  a 
class  they  arc  far  too  unreliable  for  important  under- 
takings. They  are  most  pleasant  companions  socially, 
and  manifest  profound  interest  in  what  is  said  during 
conversation ;  but  tlie  next  moment  all  is  forgotten, 
their  protestations  not  more  false  than  their  promises. 

From  Italy,  the  early  patron  of  literature,  and 
once  the  home  of  art,  from  skies  as  bright  and  air  as 
balniy  as  our  own,  came  many  hither.  And  notwith- 
standing their  languid  nature,  and  their  ancient  repu- 
tation for  cunning  and  treachery,  they  proved  to  be  a 
quiet  and  industrious  people,  capable  of  teaching  us 
many  things  besides  painting  and  music.  Those  in 
California  are  more  skilled  in  gardening,  boating,  fish- 
ing, and  maccaroni-making  than  in  the  dark  subtleties 
of  political  or  social  intrigues. 

Nor  has  the  ancient  traveller,  the  Hebrew,  been 


soo 


SOCIAL   ANALYSIS. 


■^ ;  ^i 


;i  "fii 


witliout  his  influence  in  California,  where  lie  ro- 
nuiincd  true  to  liis  traditional  j^ursuits.  This  may 
be  accounted  for  on  the  ground  that  for  centuries 
past,  in  fact  since  the  destruction  of  their  national- 
ity, almost  every  other  avenue  but  commerce  was 
denied  them  by  the  statutory  provisions  of  the  na- 
tions among  whom  they  had  found  residence.  But 
this  commercial  character  of  the  Hebrew  has  become 
so  recognized  an  element  in  the  social  and  industrial 
development  of  a  country,  that  the  early  entrance  of 
Hebrews  in  California  nmst  liave  been  considered  as 
one  of  the  sure  indications  of  the  country's  future 
excellence  and  permanent  prosperity.  Those  who 
found  their  way  to  the  coast  were  sober,  industrious, 
abstemious,  for  the  most  part  of  good  family,  and 
hence  educated.  They  were  as  liberal  in  their  re- 
ligious sentiment  as  in  the  methods  of  their  business; 
hence  they  easily  became  prosperous,  met  with  prompt 
and  ready  recognition,  found  many  gentile  doors 
oi)ened  to  them,  and  secured  for  themselves  the  con- 
sideration of  their  fellow-inunigrants.  They  shumied 
jiolitics,  without  refusing  to  serve  the  people;  some 
held  public  office ;  the  greatest  number  were  content 
with  pursuing  their  vocations,  and  assisting  in  the 
promotion  of  peace  and  the  enforcement  of  law.  As 
a  direct  result,  the  Hebrew  communities  of  California 
are  among  the  most  prosperous  of  the  world. 

Thus  we  see  here  in  California  a  fusion  of  widely 
distant  and  often  antagonistic  elements,  some  of  which 
blend  quickly  and  some  slowly.  Besides  these  arc 
redundant  and  heterogfiueous  qualities  which  do  not 
assimilate,  and  which  in  time  wither  and  finally  dis- 
jippoar.  In  our  streets  are  now  heard  spoken  almost 
as  many  languages  as  there  are  nations  under  the 
sun,  but  the  time  will  come  when  one  language  will 
suffice  for  men  along  these  shores  in  which  tocomnui- 
nicato  their  thoughvs,  when  home-sickness  for  mother- 
lands beyond  seas  will  be  no  longer  felt,  and  national 


THE   COMING   RACE. 


201 


partition  lines  will  bo  wholly  wiped  out.  Among 
those  who  now  drink  to  their  fatherland,  who  now 
think  and  sing  their  eyes  dim,  shortly  there  will  be 
fow  who  can  trace  the  t'an)ily  name  beyond  the  (Golden 
(Jate  or  tell  from  what  country  their  great,  great 
grandfather  came. 

Thougli  not  of  one  root,  of  one  stem  this  people  will 
he ;  and  they  will  form  collectively  probably  a  finer 
race  than  any  from  which  they  individually  s})rung. 
The  parent  source  rei)resented  the  select  manhood 
from  the  different  nations  ;  for  the  remoteness  of  Cali- 
f  )rnia,  the  cost  and  dangers  of  the  voyage,  and  the 
}ir('sumed  hardshij)s  of  life  here,  kept  back  all  save 
the  more  hardy,  self-reliant,  and  provided  classes,  and 
chew  in  particular  the  dashing  and  adventurous  spirits. 
This  sifting  continues  to  a  great  extent,  although 
settled  conditions  and  improved  communications  per- 
mit the  introduction  also  of  less  choice  specimens,  and 
the  climatic  advantaoes  attract  a  number  of  invalids 
and  indolent  villa-dwellers.  They  bring  compensation, 
however,  in  much  needed  culture  and  refinement,  and 
ill  presenting  for  assimilation  a  superior  class  of 
women,  so  far  kept  back  by  the  circumstances  which 
eliminated  all  who  were  not  prepared  to  contend  with 
liaid  border  life.  The  earlier  female  arrivals  were  of 
the  robust  mould,  well  calculated  to  bear  a  strong 
])i'ogeny;  but  mentally,  and  in  social  position  and 
a((juireinents,  they  were  inferior  to  the  male  pioneers, 
Homcwhat  deficient  in  those  finer  qualities  which  above 
all  win  the  admiration  of  the  lover,  the  esteem  of 
the  husband,  and  the  respect  of  the  children;  quali- 
ties which  are  particularly  sought  and  expected  no 
less  in  the  mother  than  in  the  bride,  since  in  the 
moral  and  intellectual  home-training  of  the  child  lies 
the  basis  for  its  future  unfolding  and  success. 

From  such  excellent  sources  there  is  every  reason 
to  expect  a  race  no  less  well  endowed.  Environment 
is  of  the  most  favorable  character.  Resources  are  so 
varied  and  extensive  that  they  promise  to  stimulate 


SOCIAL  ANALYSIS. 


M 


k^-'i  -  ;i 


and  reward  for  time  indefinite  the  enterprise  of  tlio 
people.  The  soil  is  so  fertile,  and  luxuriates  in  both 
choice  and  large  specimens  in  almost  every  branch 
of  culture ;  animals  as  well  as  plants  grow  so  rapidly 
and  produce  so  fine  a  progeny,  as  noticed  alike  in  tliu 
now  famed  horses,  in  the  superior  sheep  and  in  the 
ever  improving  cattle,  that  there  is  every  reason  to 
hope  for  a  similar  unfolding  in  man. 

In  the  zoological  unfolding  may  be  sought  an  an- 
swer to  the  only  qut!stionable  feature  in  the  environ- 
ment,  climate.  This  is  undoubtedly  warm,  and  sonu- 
what  enervating  in  the  interior  valleys,  and  in  tlio 
south  where  the  main  population  will  abide.  Judg- 
ing from  the  effect  of  su^h  temperature  on  the  soutli- 
erners  of  tlie  Atlantic  states,  for  instance,  there  rises 
the  spectre  of  a  blunting  indolence  to  thwart  tlio 
efforts  of  the  race.  But  the  climate  of  California 
differs  in  many  respects.  The  heat  is  modified  in 
its  depressing  influence  by  daily  breezes,  during  tlic 
season  and  hours  when  most  required,  and  the  sea 
winds  are  laden  with  tonic  elements  to  which  a  varied 
mountain  configuration  impart  variation.  The  as- 
sumed enervation  is  therefore  counteracted  here,  and 
less  applicable  to  the  elevated  table-land  beyond  the 
Sierra,  or  to  the  great  Columbia  basin,  with  its  briefer 
sunnner  and  greater  tempering  rainfall.  The  dryness 
of  California  may  prove  another  stimulant  to  nerve 
force.  Her  central  position  on  the  slope,  the  seat  for 
an  ever-expanding  and  vivifying  commerce  and  for 
attendant  industries,  and  also  the  vast  extent  of  her 
sea  coast,  with  broad  avenues  for  interior  traffic  and 
alluring  shores  beyond  the  ocean,  are  all  powerful  in- 
centives to  progress,  which  should  more  than  counter- 
act the  possibly  opposing  elements,  to  judge  from  the 
rise  of  Phoenicia  and  Carthage,  of  Athens  and  Konie, 
in  a  similar  zone. 

In  due  time,  then,  we  may  confidently  expect  to 
behold  here,  as  now  in  England,  the  best  qualities  of 
several  kinds  in  a  compact  oneness,  which  shall  be  of 


DIATHESIS   OF  THE  NATION. 


203 


such  solidity,  such  moral,  intellectual,  and  physical 
tone  as  to  make  its  iiiHueiico  felt  to  the  remotest  of 
taitli's  corners.  Certain  elemental  qualities  of  Slavs, 
Latins,  and  Teutons,  have  here  married  certain  other 
el( mental  qualities  of  Teutons,  Latins,  and  Slavs,  and 
ill  tlie  oflspring  we  find  a  new  diathesis. 

Henceforth  Californians  shall  claim  an  original  in- 
luritancc,  an  original  form  of  constitution.  Her  sky 
and  soil  suit  certahi  temperaments,  certain  mental 
(lualitios,  and  hodily  attributes.  And  the  outcome 
will  bo  a  temperament  something  between  the  nervous 
and  tlie  sanguine,  tinctured  but  slightly  by  the  pru- 
dential qualities  of  phlegm.  It  is  of  no  small  impoii;- 
anco  for  every  nation  to  know  its  diathesis,  whether 
ooutv,  as  in  the  Teutonic  races,  or  strumous,  as  in  the 
Slavonic. 

]^y  intelligent  anatomy  we  may  discover  whence 
California  derives  her  temperament.  The  nervous 
she  imbibes  with  the  quickening  air ;  the  phlegmatic 
is  clearly  inherited  from  Teutonic  ancestry,  but  from 
many  a  source  does  she  derive  her  sanguine,  buoyant, 
iKUK'ful  enthusiasm,  such  as  predominates  in  south  of 
Europe  dreamers,  in  New  England  speculators,  and 
Frcncli  faro-dealers;  though  ruinous  loss  taught  many 
early  lessons,  and  kept  society  weeded  of  its  more 
venturesome  gamesters.  It  is  well  to  be  sanguine ;  it 
is  better  not  to  be  too  sanguine.  For  I  have  often 
ivniarked  that  those  with  whom  success  seemed  a 
little  doubtful  were  readier  with  their  sacrifices  to 
win  it.  The  intempcrately  hopeful  are  apt  to  fall  on 
grief  Misfortune  usually  attends  the  irrationally  or 
excessively  sanguine.  Fortune  sometimes  favors  the 
reckless;  but  he  who  plays  his  cards  trusting  his  skill 
rather  than  chance,  wins  in  the  long  run.  Yet  hope, 
although  warping  judgment,  quickens  energy. 

Onward  shall  flow  the  stream  of  successive  genera- 
tions, tinctured  as  in  times  past  by  additions  and  sub- 
tractions, but  midst  all  its  eternal  changes  ever 
iutiuenced   by   the   original   elements.     Californians, 


804 


SOCIAL  ANALY,>.IS. 


j  4 


^ 


It' 


\i\\)\)cd  beneath  Italian  skies  iu  soft  Levantine  airs, 
will  ever  display  the  buoyant  haiii)y  temper  of  tlu! 
(ireco-llonuin  races.  To  this  will  aJd  his  leaven  tlir 
Spaniard,  in  lofty  bearing  an«l  ehivalrous  honor; 
the  Italian  in  happy  contentment  and  love  of  art;  tlic 
Frenchman  in  jesthetic  tastes  and  grace,  in  delicate 
performance,  eti(juette,  and  bright  mercurial  man- 
ners; while  tlie  German  and  the  Anglo-Saxon  will 
infuse  piactical  intelligence  and  enterprise  and  deptii 
of  knowledge  into  the  fermenting  mass.  Meanwliilc, 
the  Anglo-American,  by  his  shrewd  conimon  sense, 
sagacious  adaptiveness,  and  far-seeing,  far-reaehing 
niind  and  ambition  will  make  all  his  own. 

From  such  race  varieties,  with  their  diversified  tal- 
ents, will  spring  painters  and  poets,  inventors  and 
statesnjc!).  There  will  be  multitudes  in  every  depart- 
ment of  letters  and  art.^,  industiy  and  commerce ;  men 
of  impatient  enterprise,  who  will  not  rest  satisfied 
until  they  secure  for  themselves  and  these  shores  all 
the  advantages  that  other  nations  possess  over  nature 
and  over  eaeli  other.  They  will  form  another  Utgard, 
wherein,  like  Thor  and  his  companions,  the  new-comer 
finds  no  admittance  unless  he  excel  in  s^nno  one  art. 
With  the  acquired  insight  and  skill  they  will  multi[)ly 
knowledge,  and  add,  century  by  c(!ntury,  to  the  store- 
house of  exj)eriences  bequeathed  by  their  forefathers. 


t? 


CHAPTER  X. 


iinoii  si'iisc, 


NATION'-MAKING. 

Da  untcn  al)er  ist's  fiirctiturliuh, 

Uiul  (lur  Meii.seli  vursuolic  ilio  (rotter  nicht. 


— SdtUler. 


As  friction  generates  licat,  so  busin(>ss  activity 
ircncratcs  creative  force.  Enveloping  the  commonest 
lal)(»r  of  the  early  California  period  was  a  glow  of  in- 
viMitivo  thought,  such  as  attends  only  the  greatest 
strides  of"  progress.  It  was  not  unlike  those  outbursts 
ot"  genius  which  attiMid  revolutions  and  reformations, 
Tlu!  first  question  California  put  to  the  gold-seekers 
was  not,  Is  it  moral?  Is  it  legal?  But,  is  it  rea- 
soiuihK'  \  Is  it  possible  ?  There  never  was  a  time  or 
placi!  where  the  people  manifested  in  mind  and  Ixxly 
such  general  alacrity  and  vivacity.  It  seemed  prc- 
fi'i'.'ible  not  to  be,  than  to  be  inactive.  The  brain 
would  work,  if  not  in  the  right  direction  then  in  the 
wrong  one. 

Cliildrcn  influence  parents  as  well  as  parents  the 
children.  In  lieu  of  the  way  of  wisdom,  or  force  of 
aro;ument,  or  the  matchhig  of  experiences,  they  exert 
a  l(?ss  [XTcoptiblc  though  nt)ne  the  less  certain  reflex 
iiiHiicnco  upon  their  elders.  Soil  and  climate  act  on 
iiiind ;  atmosphere,  physical  and  social,  acts  on  the 
Mianiiors  and  morals.  On  the  sandhills  round  Yerba 
Hiiriia  cove,  during  the  year  of  1849,  was  hatched  by 
artificial  incubation  a  new  species  of  society  destined 
tliiougliout  all  time  to  exercise  an  hifluence  upon  the 
whole  human  world.  It  was  engendering  which  may 
III  time  prove  to  have  been  second  to  no  event  in  his- 

(•20.>) 


206 


NATION-MAKING. 


I;: 


tory.  Some  will  smile  at  the  idea,  and  point  to  the 
world's  babol-buildings  and  Marathon-battles,  to  tho 
advent  of  prophets,  Confucius  or  Christ,  Buddha  or 
Mahomet,  overturning  or  regenerating  the  world; 
nevertheless,  the  time  may  come  when  this  sandy 
peninsula  is  surrounded  by  a  hundred  millions  of  tlie 
world's  foremost  men,  that  this  human  intermixture 
of  1849,  the  evaporation  of  feverish  energy  attending 
it,  and  the  now  coalescences  and  crystallizations  that 
followed,  will  prove  among  the  world's  most  import- 
ant events. 

With  mind  bewildered,  tlie  new-comer  could  fcrl 
hanging  about  him  old  ideas  and  instincts,  some  of 
wliich  seemed  out  of  place  midst  this  novel  environ- 
ment. Flung  i'  ',o  the  alembic  of  the  nations,  he  was 
transmuted.  Under  a  new  revelation  ho  was  born  anew. 
The  old  form  brought  hither  was  wholly  or  in  part 
consumed  ;  certain  parts  of  his  nature,  the  unworthy 
parts,  turned  quick!}''  to  ashes.  Hypocrisy  and  cant, 
he  quickly  saw,  must  fade  like  a  dissolving  view ; 
therefore  the  cloak  to  vain  and  immoral  propensities, 
whether  it  was  religion,  social  standing,  or  other  coun- 
terfeit, was  thrown  aside,  for  directness  of  purpose  and 
honest  wickedness  were  regarded  with  greater  favor 
than  only  the  semblance  of  virtue. 

Trafficking  in  the  cities,  delving  in  the  mines,  travel- 
ling hither  and  thither,  as  their  excited  but  not 
always  intelligent  fancy  led  them,  by  steamboat  and 
stage,  by  pack-train  and  passenger  animals,  on  foot 
over  the  dusty  plains,  or  climbing  snow-covorcd 
mountains,  working,  idling,  praying,  cheating,  drink- 
ing, gambling,  killing,  curing,  were  representatives  of 
the  world's  races  hither  drawn,  and  their  actions  to 
some  extent  harmonized  by  the  only  universal  wor- 
ship under  heaven,  tlie  worship  of  gold. 

There  were  those  so  sun-browned  and  bearded,  so 
travel-stained  and  steeped  in  sin  that  the  cunninger^t 
race-fancier  might  fail  to  designate  the  soil  whonco 
they  sprang.     Enough  there  were,  however,  and  l)y 


QUALITY  OF  THE  MATERIAL. 


207 


far  the  greater  part  whose  nationahty  betrayed  itself 
citlier  ill  form,  feature,  or  dress ;  for  from  early  in- 
Huences.let  him  wander  about  the  world  as  he  will,  it 
is  impossible  for  man  wholly  to  liberate  himself.  The 
sliaip-visaged  Yankee  in  his  several  varieties  docs  not 
present  the  blunt  features  and  bullet-shaped  head  of 
the  Dutchman,  nor  does  the  Kanaka  from  the 
Hawaiian  islands  carry  the  long  cue  of  the  Chinaman 
or  the  creese  of  the  Malay.  Whether  Latin  or  Teu- 
ton, Slavonic  or  Jewish,  African  or  Indian,  the  type 
was  impressed  by  its  representative  character. 

That  thev  were  men  of  thous>ht  if  not  of  culture  is 
evident.  First  a  man  must  be  above  the  average  in 
intelligence  and  energy  to  get  to  Califoriiia  at  all.  It 
required  money,  called  forth  self-denial ;  it  was  a 
staking  of  comfort,  health,  life,  for  an  uncertain  bene- 
fit, and  churls  and  clowns  are  iu)t  made  of  the  stuff'  to 
take  these  risks;  then,  what  followed  was  of  all  pro- 
cesses most  stimulating  to  the  mind.  A  general  cut- 
ting loose  from  old  habits  and  rcstrahits,  new  scenes, 
new  countries,  contact  with  strangers  from  different 
])arts  of  the  world:  all  the  enliiihteniniX  influences  of 
travel  tended  to  awaken  the  intellect  and  excite 
originality  in  thought  and  conduct. 

The  maijnet  that  drew  men  hither,  the  manner  of 
their  coming,  the  necessiti('S  thence  arising;,  and  the 
ways  and  means  of  meeting  tl^m,  all  exercised  a 
jiiiwerful  influence  in  the  formation  of  maimers 
and  opinions.  Far  j.-.ore  pronounced  and  powerful 
than  any  laws,  maxims,  or  otlujr  form  of  exin-ession 
was  this  influence,  which  moulded  the  minds  of  men, 
and  gave  character  and  individuality  even  to  modula- 
tions of  voice,  clothes,  and  carriage. 

Immigrants  who  arrived  in  California  seemed  to 
he  st'ized  with  a  sudden  glow  of  animal  spirits,  and 
revelling  in  the  exuberance  of  new  life  and  the  physical 
force  tJius  infused,  were  carried  safely  over  immmera- 
hle  obstacles  at  which  they  otherwise  would  have 
stumbled.     The  effect  was  ov  no  means  fleetiim',  for 


208 


NATION-MAKING. 


In 


the  varying  fortunes  of  mining  life  and  the  attendant 
speculations  in  all  pursuits  kept  them  in  a  constant 
tremor  of  excitement.  This  was  marked  in  the  gold 
region  by  continued  rushes,  and  in  the  towns  by  tlio 
mad  pursuit  of  business  or  pleasure.  The  inflannna- 
ble  disposition  ignited  as  readily  as  a  tinder-box;  a 
yell  or  pistol  shot  on  the  corner  of  a  street  would  bring 
crowds  from  every  direction,  emptying  stores,  offices, 
and   bar-rooms  perhaps  several  times  a  day. 

This  was  but  the  scintillation  of  the  fiery  energy 
and  impulsive  recklessness  wherein  lay  the  greatest 
safeguards  of  the  times.  Swift  and  strong  must  be 
the  current  that  should  carry  off  the  moral  impurities 
and  social  debris  of  that  mad  epoch.  It  was  not  tlic 
time  for  grave  deliberation  and  cool  reasoning.  The 
blood  of  the  people  was  on  fire ;  a  moral  chaos  lay 
upon  the  land,  imminent  dangers  threatened  society 
and  state,  and  prompt  and  determined  action  in  the 
many  crises  that  arose  was  the  people's  only  safety, 
all  entertaining  alike  the  treacherous  hope  of  sud- 
denly becoming  rich. 

While  mining  camps  were  surcharged  with  industry 
and  dissipation,  in  the  cities  was  concentrated  an 
activity  more  rapid  and  intense  than  even  America 
had  hitherto  seen.  There  was  an  eagerness,  a  fevtr- 
ishness  in  every  quarter,  particularly  in  every  kind  of 
traffic,  which  only  American  nervousness  was  able  to 
impart. 

The  road  to  success  was  traversed  only  by  the  self- 
reliant  and  independent,  lightning  thinkers  and 
livers,  strong  in  passion,  weak  in  prejudice,  keen  at 
circumvention,  lavish  with  money.  It  was  no  time  or 
place  for  dall3'higs,  even  conscience  must  not  bo  too 
troublesome.  Thoughts  of  purity,  of  temperance,  of 
home  with  its  loved  ones,  softened  the  heart ;  but,  car- 
ried too  fiir,  such  reflections  brought  painful  exhaus- 
tion, and  hence  must  not  be  indulged  in. 

Few  after  cominsy  to  California  failed  in  business 
from  excessive  conscientioussncss.      Yet   there  weie 


PROCESS  OF  TRANSMUTATION. 


209 


those  few,  with  refined  sensibility,  whose  consciences 
liacl  been  educated  into  a  staoe  of  fastidiousness  wliich 
made  tlieni  unlit  to  grapple  with  rude,  profane  labor, 
\\']u),  fearful  of  doing  something  wrong,  did  nothing. 
¥c\v  resisted  long  the  temptation  to  drop  into  {*,  gani- 
l)ling  saloon,  to  take  now  and  then  a  drink,  to  stay 
away  from  church  and  work  or  travel  on  a  Sunday, 
to  swear  a  little  in  cases  of  emergency,  and  finally  to 
overreach  their  neighbor  in  a  bargain  when  opportunity 
olll'ied.  No  one  was  likely  to  know  it,  or,  if  so, 
everybody  did  it;  in  any  event,  the  money  was  of 
more  value  than  the  morality — or  at  least,  money 
after  the  return  home  would  be  worth  more  than  a 
too  strict  previous  honesty  in  California.  Thus  con- 
science was  quieted. 

Ouce  unquestioning  believers  in  existing  traditions, 
ill  old  men's  tales,  and  above  all  in  whatever  was 
stauij)ed  in  ink  on  paper,  gradually  they  began  to  ir^- 
quire,  are  these  things  true?  While  freely  yielding 
to  the  fascinations  of  highly  seasoned  novels,  witli 
which  mining  camps  were  inundated,  the  minds  of 
tiiese  uncouth  students  still  continued  their  blind 
groping  after  truth.  Prominent  among  the  many 
(loj^nuis  early  ignored  was  that  special  scheme  of  sal- 
vation, contrived  for  an  elect  few,  which  surrounded 
itself  by  an  atmosphere  of  lofty  spirituality,  and  oom- 
1-lacently  regarded  all  without  the  little  coterie  as 
wholly  reprobate.  Farther  and  farther  they  wander 
from  the  tracks  of  their  youtli,  until  they  find  them- 
sulves  launched  upon  a  sea  of  tliought,  bijttondess  and 
himiidless.  At  first  fearful,  then  joyous,  in  their  new 
libcrt}',  many  of  them  become  lovers  and  worshippers 
of  nature,  and  almost  cver3'(me  has  his  individual  code 
of  etliit's. 

Thus,  as  they  elbow  their  way  through  the  w^orld, 
knocking  together  their  heads  newly  filled  with  ideas 
ongiMidered  from  new  conditions,  with  all  their  stored 
principles  and  prejudices,  each  for  himself  begins  to 
think  both  of  the  i)resent  and  of  the  future;  begins 

KSSAYS  AND   MlhCELLANY  14 


210 


NATION-MAKING. 


to  question  whether  the  institutions  of  his  own  eouvi- 
tiy  alone  are  destined  to  last,  and  to  last  forever, 
whether  his  mother's  and  sister's  bright  and  beautifu) 
beyond  is  as  real  as  he  once  believed  it  to  be.  Ho 
begins  to  see  in  the  aft'ected  patriotism  of  politicians 
the  lowest  and  most  vulgar  selfishness,  and  in  his  own 
patriotism  a  senseless  instrument  to  be  played  upon 
for  the  benefit  of  office-seeking  jugglers ;  he  begins  to 
see  multitudes  of  opinions  and  beliefs  held  by  slender 
traditions  and  supported  by  slim  proofs. 

All  ancient  maxims,  political  and  religious,  that  did 
not  fit  the  occasion,  be  their  origin  whencesocver  tlicy 
might,  were  tJirown  aside,  together  with  many  of  the 
superfluous  forms  of  law  and  institutions.  Not  that 
former  associations  and  instructions  here  suddenly  lost 
all  influence,  but  they  v/crc  mixed,  even  at  the  first, 
and  later  there  came  still  other  elements,  in  different 
classes  and  aspirations,  notably  men  with  their  fami- 
lies, having  views  of  permanency. 

Class  distinctions  suffered  above  all  a  ruthless  lev- 
elling. Never  existed  a  varied  connnunity  with  such 
equality  among  its  members  socially  and  politically; 
there  were  none  rich,  for  the  rich  would  not  traverse 
thousands  of  miles  of  lands  and  seas  to  dig  for  gold, 
or  to  embark  in  uncertain  traffic.  There  were  none 
poor,  for  what  we  understand  by  poor  men  could  not 
afford  the  journey,  and  once  here  no  one  was  poor  with 
the  Sierra  foothills  as  their  bank  of  deposit.  Wluii 
some  began  to  succeed  and  others  to  fail,  neither  net  d 
be  too  sure  of  their  footing,  for  fortune's  ways  were 
slippery  in  those  days. 

As  for  antecedents,  they  were  utterly  ignored.  A 
man  was  valued  only  for  his  qualities.  No  assump- 
tion of  tiristocracy  or  pretended  superiority  was  toler- 
ated; there  were  no  men  and  women  in  the  country, 
but  all,  in  their  own  eyes,  were  gentlemen  and  Lnlies. 

Blood,  breeding,  and  education  went  for  nothiii'^Jf 
the  woollen  shirt  covered  not  genuine  manhood,  ^et 
nowhere  was  the  influence  which,  if  attended  by  true 


LIBERTY  AND  SINCERITY. 


211 


manhood,  culture  carries  with  it,  more  quickly  felt 
tlinii  liere.  Honor  and  virtue  were  respected,  but 
tJii'V  wore  looked  for  beneath  the  skin;  dress  could 
not  conceal  hypocrisy;  aflcctation  and  dissimulation 
in  any  sliape  were  ridiculed. 

In  comnmnities  where  the  people  are  separated  into 
(listiiict  classes,  there  is  a  certain  sacred  restraint 
wliicli  prohibits  free  intercourse  of  speech  and  action 
Intwccn  individuals  of  one  class  and  those  of  another. 
It  is  onlv  amonnf  associates  where  the  veil  of  reserve 
is  laid  aside,  that  imposition  is  fathomed,  and  the 
intrinsic  merit  of  the  individual  made  to  appear  in  its 
nnkcihiess  and  purity.  In  California,  with  barriers 
of  caste  broken  down,  and  all  cloudy  prestige  of  an- 
cestry, education,  and  social  standing  removed,  it  was 
easy  to  know  men  as  they  were.  Accidentally  thrown 
t();j;('ther  for  a  brief  term  they  would  not  take  trouble 
ti>  conceal  feelings  or  hide  deformities.  There  were 
here  no  conventionalisms  of  society  in  which  its  mem- 
bers are  so  accustomed  to  disg;uise  themselves. 

Si)  keen  had  become  the  insight  into  human  nature 
of  tliose  horny-handed  diggers,  that  to  act  naturally 
was  soon  discovered  to  be  the  only  safe  way.  Un- 
fortunately, with  the  artifices  of  civilizaticm  many  cast 
off  aJso  its  decencies;  from  looseness  in  dress  and 
niaini(>rs  rose  looseness  in  morals. 

Among  many  orighial  creations  appeared  a  new 
voniacular.  Thought  crj'stalized  into  words  uneven 
and  sentences  disjointed,  which  were  jerked  out  in  a 
Id^ic  eminently  paradoxical. 

Ail  legislation  tending  toward  a  forced  morality 
was  frowned  down;  under  all  attempts  to  inculcate 
puritanical  habits  by  coercion,  such  as  closing  the 
tlieaires  on  Sunday  nights,  expecting  thereby  to  drive 
the  liabitue^s  of  such  places  into  the  churches,  thus 
stimulating  their  piety  as  Falstaff  would  say  on  com- 
I'lilsimi,  they  were  stitf-necked  and  dogged. 

1  Politically  free  and  socially  untramelled,  these  new 
couiers  made  rude  labor  the  central  figure,  the  ideal 


212 


NATION -MAKING. 


in  their  code  of  ethics;  hence  roughness  and  labor 
were  not  only  honorable  but  virtuous,  and  often  tlio 
only  virtues.  Contempt  for  dress,  for  personal  ap- 
pearance, were  in  many  direci^ions  followed  by  abjuui- 
tion  of  everything  refining,  and  attachment  to  what- 
ever brutalized ;  and  this  deification  of  labor  must  be 
sustained  by  bravado  and  lawlessness. 

It  was  not  that  money  was  sought  for  or  worshipped 
with  so  much  greater  intensity  on  the  Pacific  coast 
than  on  the  Atlantic.  Nor  was  money-making  meaner 
or  more  debasing  here  than  elsewhere.  Voyaging  to 
California  was  no  less  respectable  than  voyaging  to 
Europe  or  Asia,  merchandising  was  no  more  meicc- 
nary.  Digging  for  gold  was  as  honorable  as  diggiii*; 
for  coal,  or  copper,  and  California  street  stock  s]>ocu- 
lations  were  no  more  gambling  than  those  of  Wall 
street.  It  was  the  absence  of  counterbalancino;  iuHii- 
ences  that  made  life  more  licentious,  and  gave  Cali- 
fornia free  and  easy  airs  in  respect  to  moral  decorum. 

liie  general  order  of  things  incident  to  new  settle- 
ments was  reversed.  There  was  none  of  the  innocence 
and  artlessness  of  youth  ;  there  was  no  season  of 
childliood,  children  were  born  men  and  women;  there 
was  no  period  of  healthy  growth  in  which  intellect 
might  strengthen  and  purity  and  virtue  Moom.  Inn- 
ervating luxury  and  voluptuous  pleasures  accompanied 
self-denying  effort,  and  severe  hardships.  Necessarily 
there  nmst  be  here  a  reconcilement  of  incongruities 
f  )l]owing  the  meeting  of  extremes  and  the  clash  of 
customs. 

(lold-seekers  were  adrift  as  upon  an  unknown  sea. 
Exjiatriatcd  by  their  ambitions  they  felt  themselves 
almost  beyond  the  world's  confines,  without  youthful 
associations,  social  obligations,  or  ties  of  kindred  to 
impose  restraint  or  guidance.  The  refined  and  the 
uncultured  fell  alike  under  the  spell  of  disorder,  and 
reveled  like  schoolboys  in  the  novelty  of  the  license. 

It  was  astonishing  how  quickly  at  the  cr,  of  gold 
clergymen   among    others    hastened    to    California. 


MORALITY  AND  HYPOCRISY. 


218 


Wherever  the  necessity  existed,  there  the  ministers 
of  the  gospel  gathered,  and  tliere  was  scarcely  a  canon 
^vitliout  its  wickedness  in  those  days.  Preachers  at 
first  displayed  freely  their  piety,  and  were  as  zealous 
for  souls  as  ever  they  had  been  at  home.  More  so, 
tli(3  field  being  new,  and  money  and  sin  abounding. 
It  soon  became  apparent,  however,  that  their  ancient 
labors  were  lost  in  these  goltl-made  conmiunities,  in- 
tent on  enjoyment  for  a  season,  and  to  compromise 
wltli  conscience  afterward.  Even  the  gospel  ministers 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was  precious  time 
wasted  fighting  sin  in  the  foothills ;  so  after  holding 
divine  service  hi  tents  or  under  the  trees  for  a  few 
Sundays,  many  turned  to  mining  or  other  service  of 
nianmion. 

And  the  soft  black  raiment  of  sanctitv  being  laid 
aside  for  the  coarse  gray  shirt  of  sin,  the  influence  of 
coddling  elders,  of  prayer-meetings,  of  conference 
meetings,  of  holy  meditations  and  brotherly  visitations, 
of  sermon-writing  and  fleshly  wrestlings,  and  old 
women's  stml-stirring  tea-drinkings,  and  missionary 
stocking-makings — all  this,  these  soul-subduing  influ- 
ences, being  absent,  it  was  marvellous  how  quickly 
the  Howers  of  piety  so  recently  blooming  under  these 
showers  of  benevolent  association  became  rank  weeds, 
reeking  with  blasphemy,  rum,  and  tobacco.  As  the 
leavtMi  of  sin  began  to  work  beneath  these  gray  shirts, 
it  is  wonderful  liow  quickly  melted  the  thin  shell  of 
their  religion.  Many  of  the  fallen  ones  stopped  not 
on  reaching  the  broad  level  of  manhood,  but  fell  far 
below  it,  and  became  gamblers,  drinkers ;  yet  some 
renuiimed  honest  and  earnest,  willing  to  take  time 
and  eternity  at  their  word,  and  make  the  most  of 
both. 

That  which  had  hitherto  been  taught  under  the 
names  of  morality  and  good  character  was  carefully 
laid  awav  with  the  black  coat  and  white  shirt,  to  bo 
iii!,'ain  resumed  on  returning  home.  It  mattered  little 
what  men  were  here,  how  they  behaved,  or  how  they 


II 


i 
I  I 


214 


NATION-MAKING. 


were  regarded,  so  that  their  parents  and  the  friends 
of  their  childhood  did  not  know  of  it.  A  husband 
might  be  faithless  unblushingly,and  a  minister  indulge 
in  a  little  Sunday  gambling  without  exciting  comment, 
and  as  nobody  expected  to  remain  here  permanently, 
who  cared?  Even  name  and  identity  were  willingly 
sunk  in  the  new  admixture.  The  public  benefactor, 
the  dispenser  of  justice,  the  doer  of  a  daring  deed,  the 
hero  or  the  bully  of  the  camp,  might  have  been 
known,  even  to  his  most  intimate  comrades,  only  as 
Sandy  Jim,  One-eyed  Bill,  Yank,  Dutcliy,  or  Lttng- 
leijfijed  Pete.  The  natural  became  iiere  a  disnuise 
for  artificial  reality  of  the  home  country.  Rags  and 
undress  hi  like  manner  covered  the  beautiful  and 
amiable. 

The  outward  signs  by  which  we  are  accustomed  to 
read  the  soul  are  here  obliterated.  Beneath  the 
broad-brimmed  Mexican  hat,  and  long,  uncombed  hair, 
the  bushy  beard  and  greasy  shirt,  intellect,  humanity, 
and  heart  may  be  concealed,  or  hellish  hate  and  loatli- 
some  lust.  The  true  character  is  lost  to  visible  senile 
in  dirt.  Still,  let  the  begrimed  one  move  about  among 
his  fellows,  show  his  eye  and  open  his  mouth,  and  the 
character  and  calibre  of  the  man  will  soon  be  weiulud 
and  measured.  Where  life  or  death  is  so  often  the 
penalty  of  ignorance  or  stupidity,  insight  into  charac- 
ter becomes  an  instinct. 

There  is  always  a  deterioration  in  the  social  and 
moral  qualities  attendant  upon  a  search  for  the  precious 
metals,  and  upon  tlie  wild  excitement  which  must 
sway  a  community  in  which  it  is  carried  on.  Severe 
labor  alone  redeems  it  to  some  extent.  With  the 
flush-timer  the  supreme  thought,  aim,  and  hope  cen- 
tred in  gold.  It  was  worshipped  in  one  image  alone 
by  the  rusty,  ragged  miners,  with  their  thin,  grizzled, 
unkempt  visages,  shaggy  with  weather-bleached  hair, 
down  in  the  dolorous  canons,  sweating,  and  smiting 
the  rocks  for  gold,  which  if  gained  would  yield  only 


avauicp:  and  ambition. 


215 


l-Lasurcs  fitful  as  the  garden  of  Adonis,  buffeting 
iiiisfoitunc  with  brawny  aim  and  steady  eye,  many 
of  tlieni  held  for  months  and  years  in  a  limbo  of  sus- 
juMiso,  with  an  aspect  neither  merry  nor  sad;  many 
living  along  in  a  Virgilian  hades,  having  no  hope 
f  liough  consumed  by  strong  desire.  The  town-dwellers, 
sei'lving  the  same  object  in  more  varied  form,  enjoyed 
a  more  diversified  existence.  Nevertheless,  all  was 
of  a  metallic  brightness  and  a  metallic  ring ;  golden 
light  and  landscape,  golden  soil  and  golden  compan- 
ioiisliip,  rationalistic  thought,  utilitarian  ideas,  material 
wealth.  Gold  was  god.  Like  the  one-eyed  Arimas- 
piiiiis,  they  could  see  only  gold,  and  waste  their  lives 
quarrelling  with  the  gryfons  that  guarded  it. 

From  this  absorbing  mania  sprang  a  number  of 
others.  Passions  were  played  upim  ;  irritations,  toil, 
and  Imager  united  even  during  the  journey  to  stir  up 
s.'hishness,  meanness,  and  wickedness,  so  that  when 
the  gold  seeker  reached  his  destination,  he  was  half 
the  devil's,  and  ministering  spirits  stood  ready  and 
waiting  to  appropriate  the  other  half  Nor  was  he 
to  1)0  specially  blanlcd  for  all  this.  Circumstances 
did  it.  If  he  stumbled  not,  it  was  due  more  to  tcm- 
l)eranicnt  than  to  merit.  Indeed,  an  extraordinary 
exercise  of  cold,  calculating  selfishness  is  essential  to 
siioeoss ;  ho  would  have  been  regarded  as  little  better 
than  a  hypocrite  or  a  f(K)l  who  should  have  made  the 
sauK!  display  of  his  virtues  on  the  forty-nine  arena  as 
ill  liis  own  family  or  Sunday-school. 

Had  Calift)rnia  no  other  natural  resources  than  her 
iiiiiu'ral  wealth,  she  would  be  to-day  one  of  tlie  most 
sordid  and  insignificant  of  states.  We  have  only  to 
behold  the  stagnation  of  Nevada  and  the  decline  and 
desolation  of  mining  districts  in  different  directions. 
The  mining  for  gold  and  silver  is  too  near  akin  to 
gaiuhling  to  be  wholly  free  from  excesses  in  tempera- 
iii'ut  and  habits,  and  cognate  abasements.  It  is  or- 
dained that  by  work  only  shall  man  improve,  either 
physically  or  mentally ;  and  by  work  is  meant  that 


! 


I'll 

M 

1  :i. 


', '  I 


216 


NATION-MAKINO. 


kind  of  labor  Avliicli  tends  to  results  beneficial  to  tlio 
liuiiian  race. 

]\[()st  industries  tend  to  this  end,  but  i^old  miniuijf 
ranks  auKJiiij  the  lowest  in  the  <?rade.  This  can  ho 
best  illustrated  by  a  comparison  with  ai^riculturo, 
wherein  every  application  leaves  a  more  or  less  tanj^i- 
ble  improvement  tor  the  future,  while  tlie  other  leaves 
a  trail  of  devastation  in  upturned  valleys  and  destrt 
river-banks,  both  rendered  unfit  for  cultivation  by  tlio 
washing  away  of  the  soil,  or  by  the  superposition  of 
bottom  gravel  or  deliris  from  hydraulic  washings. 
With  tlio  exhaustion  of  the  surface  deposits,  or  of  b(>ds 
and  quartz  bodies,  the  settlements  sustained  by  thrlr 
exploitation  sink  to  ruhied  hamlets  or  are  abandoned  to 
solitude.  The  mining  of  baser  metals  and  minerals 
is  attended  by  little  or  none  of  this  harm,  while 
yielding  far  more  substantial  blessings.  Nevertheless, 
the  extraction  of  the  precious  metals  hivolves  by  no 
means  the  waste  of  labor  and  the  deplorable  results 
that  are  so  sweepingly  ascribed  to  it.  Under  our 
present  commercial  sj-stein  these  metals  have  been  t)f 
incalculable  value  as  a  medium  of  exchange  ;  numer- 
ous useful  as  well  as  ornamental  arts  require  tlicui, 
and  their  contribution  to  the  enjoyments  and  delights 
of  mankind  is  not  to  be  despised.  As  a  lever  fir 
starting  civilization,  for  laying  the  bases  of  prosperous 
settlements,  they  stand  almost  unequalled.  Without 
•their  aid  the  Pacific  coast  would  present  merely  a  ftw 
small  and  struggling  seaboard  states  witli  a  waste  in- 
terior, instead  of  the  series  of  rich  political  sections  wc 
now  can  boast, 

Gold  in  uncovering  itself  did  great  things  for  Cali- 
fornia ;  it  brought  hither  intelligence  and  culture,  and 
speedily  peopled  the  land  with  industrious,  enter- 
prising men.  In  making  its  exodus,  it  left  on  the  spot 
the  more  excellent  of  those  it  had  enticed  hither;  1(  ft 
their  minds  free  to  engage  in  superior  and  more  perma- 
nently profitable  pursuits ;  left  them  to  occupy  and 
subdue  the  land,  to  plant  homes,  to  civilize,  to  refine. 


THE  INFLUKXCK  OF  C;OLr)-^rINES. 


217 


The  mines  of  California  bred  less  inactivity  or  indo- 
IciK'o  tliun  perhaps  any  other  gold  field.  Die  class 
tliiit  worked  tlieni  had  come  too  far,  were  too  hitelli- 
g(Mit,  iMiergctic,  and  ambitious,  and  the  development 
(it'tlio  mineral  resources  of  the  country  was  too  n'pid 
ti)  Ix'get  idleness.  True,  some  ended  their  lives  in 
dissipation,  but  this  arose  more  from  disappointment 
(ir  lack  of  self-control,  than  from  the  usual  enervating 
inllueiice  attending  the  uncertain  and  gnnd)ling-liko 
occuitation  of  minhig. 

Ihid  California  given  gold  to  the  early  adventurers 
without  labor,  as  Alexico  and  Peru  gave  it  to  Cortt's 
and  I'izarro;  had  there  been  an  aboriginal  race  which 
clvili/ed  lords  could  have  whipped  into  the  mining 
service  without  immediately  killing  them  as  was  the 
case  in  jNTcxico  ;  and  had  the  Sierra  drainage  contin- 
ued to  yield  treasure  as  at  the  beginning,  the  wor;;t 
results  to  the  country  might  have  followed.  Gold  is 
a  Judas  that  betrays  with  kisses,  a  Will  o'  the  wisp 
that  leads  its  followers  over  bogs  and  fens  to  destruc- 
tion; too  much  gold  too  easily  obtained  will  ruin  any 
mail  or  nation,  as  Mexico  and  Spain  were  ruined. 
({old  engendered  a  mania  for  speculation,  and  emigra- 
tion to  California;  this  was  well.  Then  it  flitted 
hence,  until  it  took  a  mine  to  work  a  mine ;  this  was 
Ix'tter.  Else  what  a  delirious  crack-brained  country 
this  would  be  to-day.  I  do  not  say  that  such  riches 
arc  an  inherent  element  of  weakness  in  a  country. 
Far  from  it.  Wealth  and  leisure  lie  at  the  founda- 
tion of  all  culture ;  but  wealth  to  be  of  much  benefit 
must  come  not  as  an  inheritance  or  con(iuest,  but  as 
tlio  fruit  of  labor,  by  which  means  ah)ne  an  individual 
or  a  nation  can  become  great. 

The  man  born  to  wealth  is  not  wholly  to  be  envied; 
four  fifths  of  his  chance  for  manhood  are  gone.  The 
youth  whose  money  and  position  are  already  secure  d 
to  him,  lacks  the  incentive  to  work,  and  witliout  work 
he  n(>ver  can  be  a  man.  His  money  wall  not  put 
niu.sclo  on  his  arm,  nor  intellect  within  his  head ;  and 


918 


NATIOXMAKING. 


tliougli  lie  l)o  as  rich  as  CrcBsu^i  lio  will  l)o  but  a  |iutiy 
idiot.  Tell  tliousaiid  dollars  cotitaiu  gnatc  r  possibili- 
ties of  ('oiiifort  and  conteiitinent  than  tiii  inillioas. 

Some  dispositions  are  demoralized  by  adversity. 
It  is  more  difficult  tor  a  person  pampered  by  wealth, 
and  petted  by  society,  to  tuni  his  back  u[»ou  the 
allurements  ot  prosperity,  and  rigidly  pursue  a  life  uf 
regularity  and  self-abnegation,  such  for  instance  as  is 
absolutely  necessary  for  one  who  would  achieve  suc- 
cess in  ait  or  letters,  than  for  one  to  work  and  im- 
prove who  is  driven  on  by  poverty.  But  ou  the  otlicr 
hand,  the  shock  of  failure  to  one  of  a  sanguine  tem- 
perament, who  has  labored  long  for  a  competence 
which  appeared  just  within  his  grasp,  too  often  results 
in  demoralizaticm. 

The  fire  of  religion  burns  fiercely  when  fanned  by 
persecution,  and  dies  away  under  the  enervating  iu- 
fiueiices  of  prosperity.  In  times  of  peace  patriotism 
lies  dormant  in  the  hearts  of  the  people,  and  is 
awakened  only  by  the  approach  of  danger.  Wealtli 
in  order  to  be  highly  prized  must  be  hard  to  get  and 
limited  to  a  few.  It  is  becoming  commonplace  for 
illiterate  clowns  by  some  lucky  turn  of  the  cards,  or 
by  some  system  of  overreaching,  to  be  able  to  v/rite 
themselves  down  for  two  or  twenty  millions,  and  tlicn 
buy  a  seat  in  congress,  or  secure  some  other  itlace 
which  only  renders  the  more  conspicuous  their  igno- 
rance and  vanity.  Fortunes  and  so-called  honors 
thus  obtained  cheapen  manhood,  and  bring  partici- 
pants into  contempt. 


3o  far  \ve  have  preaefiled  the  more  shaded  aspect  of 
lifornia  character; sties,  which  after  all  applied  only 


Sc 
Cali 

in  a  degree.  Exc<>.;sij3  and  eccentricities  attract  more 
attention  because  of  their  prominence  above  the  broad 
current  of  ordinary  occurrences,  and  are  naturally 
seized  upon  by  observers,  who  moreover  emp]la^ize 
them  in  order  to  impart  a  stronger  outline  to  the 
pecuharitics.     A  certain  class  of  writers,  each  under 


UKl'llESKNTATINK  ECCKNTUICITIES. 


M9 


tlio  effort  to  t)Ut(lo  all  predecessors,  1ms  gone  further 
aiMl  cxiiggcratf*!  the  occciitricitics  of  the  eatly  atl- 
vciiturers.  In  the  niaiii  they  were  )iot  so  very  siii;:;ular; 
must  of  them  were  (juiet,  orderly  men.  Some  camps 
Wilt!  worse  than  others,  and  nearly  every  camp  had 
.<iiiiK!  eccentric  characters.  The  fault  is  that  tiic  n.'ost 
<  aiuvai^ant  descriptions  of  fictitious  characters  have 
1)1(11  wrought  up  by  sensational  writers  and  palmed  oil 
as  n  jiresentatives. 

Yet  there  was  enough  of  the  strange  and  fantas- 
t\r,  and  that  without  adding  to  the  coloring.  The 
oiitliriing  was  a  rare  novelty  in  its  general  aspect. 
Fertile  moment  a  new  experiment  was  undergoing 
trial— how  civilized  men  of  several  nations  would  be- 
li.ive  when  thrown  promiscuously  together,  unre- 
!-*:'.;iiiied  by  law,  by  society,  by  religious  forms. 
JMiuitivc  men  live  without  ijovernment :  each  avenu'es 
]  is  own  wrongs  or  leaves  them  unavenged.  Proo-ros- 
i-ive  men  refer  their  troubles  to  rulers;  in  connnon 
with  i>rimitive  men  they  likewise  weave  around  them- 
s  Ives  innumerable  cords  of  restraint,  such  as  religi(jus 
tiicl lings,  moral  precepts,  fashion,  public  opinion, 
wliicli  act  as  fetters  to  mind  and  passion.  Some  of 
tl use  are  good,  others  bad;  some  are  blessings  at  one 
time  and  evils  at  another.  Let  us  hope  that  mankind 
Si  mic  day  will  be  so  far  advanced  as  no  longer  to  require 
{xhninistrators  only ;  instead  of  rulers,  abitrators ; 
liut  ttiat  time  is  not  yet.  These  men  beins;  without 
law  straightway  became  a  law  unto  themselves.  As 
it  is  impossible  for  them  to  escape  form  and  fashion 
ill  some  shape,  their  first  decree  that  society  shall  be 
witliout  trammels  or  traditions,  absolutely  free,  inde- 
iKiident,  and  individual,  is  but  the  casting  of  a  new 
fetter  which  makes  no  fashion  the  fashion. 

T]ie  first  use  of  their  liberty  or  license  is  to  make 
tluit  license  the  law;  so  nnpossible  is  it  for  men  to  fly 
tlie  track  of  destiny,  or  progress  faster  or  in  any 
direction  other  than  that  predetermhied  I  Religious 
el)seTvances  were  no  longer  urged  upon  them  by  pre- 


220 


NATION-MAKING. 


ccpt  and  example;  so  many  became  infidel  to  ortlio- 
dox  creeds;  nevertheless  they  could  not  escape  re- 
ligion. Deatli  and  eternity  were  before  tlieni;  that 
they  well  knew,  and  each  for  himself  must  meet  the 
issue.  So  each  for  himself  struck  out  on  some  inde- 
pendent belief,  tinctured  more  or  less  by  former  tviv.u- 
ing.  Som.)  professed  to  believe  notliing;  this  in  itself 
then  became  their  dogma  or  doctrine.  Not  a  Ww 
turned  pliilosophcrs;  and  far  niiglit  be  the  search  \)v- 
fore  finding,  witliin  a  given  nund^er,  more  or  deeper 
thinkers  on  matters  of  religion  and  philosophy.  In 
these,  as  in  all  other  respects,  they  were  tiirown  U])!mi 
their  own  resources.  They  had  all  the  essentials  for 
deep  thinking,  an  abru[)t  breaking  loose  from  tic 
past,  a  new  interchange  of  ideas,  Avith  nature  and 
their  own  hearts  to  connnune  with.  Old  moralities 
they  threw  away  and  estal>lished  new  maxims  to  met  t 
the  occasion.  Tlie  aristocracy  of  dress  and  refnie- 
ment  they  frowned  down,  and  set  up  an  aristocracy 
of  democrac}^ 

In  tliis  way  they  soon  perceived  that  humanity 
could  n(»t  escape  the  shackles  ;  that  as  well  niij-Kt 
tliev  strun'ijle  to  be  rid  of  their  nature  as  of  the  i:!- 
fluence  of  physical  and  social  surroundings,  fclce 
how  it  works.  No  sooner  do  these  gold-hunters  cut 
loose  from  the  trammels  of  home  and  of  settled  ci\  i- 
Vv/ahI  society  than  they  find  themsclvt'S  surrounded  ly 
new  restrictions,  held  as  if  in  a,  vise  bv  the  u,reat  law 
of  necessitv,  urowinij  out  of  their  new  situation. 
There  is  no  escape  from  this  law.  Bands  of  outlaws 
are  subject  to  severer  restrictions  by  their  own  code 
than  ever  a  lawful  govenunent  imposed  upon  its  sim- 
jects.  The  leader,  in  order  to  lie  leader,  nmst  giicl 
himself  and  walk  wisely,  and  the  led  must  wc\yo 
their  will  almost  wliolly  in  that  of  their  leadci'.  and 
keep  a  stricter  guard  upon  tiieir  intercourse  with  tlie 
rough  comrades  with  whom  tlie  knife  an.d  ]»istol  are 
readier  to  hand  than  words  to  mouth.  Wholcswuie 
law  falls  at  once  under  the  severest  des[)otism. 


THE  EYE  OF  MAN. 


221 


lei  to  ortlio- 
)t  escape  ic- 
:  them;  tl.j.t 
ist  meet  tLe 
1  some  inde- 
former  traiii- 
tliisin  itself 
Not  a  fcv 
ic  seareh  l)e- 
I'c  or  tlee[.ei' 
losopliy.  Ill 
tiiiTAvn  upoM 
essentials  for 
se  from  tlic 
nature  and 
1(1  moralitiis 
xims  to  met  t 
5  and  refuK- 
1  aristoeraf-y 

at  humanity 
well  ndidit 
fis  of  the  ill- 
dings.      k!lee 
hunters  cut 
settled  civi- 
rounded  \iy 
V  M'reat  law 
w   situation. 
of  outlaws 
ir  own  code 
)on  its  suh- 
•,  must  j^iid 
must  meiyc 
leader,  and 
rse  with  tlie 
1  ])istol  are 
Wholesome 
tism. 


All  of  us,  old  and  young,  become  subject  to  a 
master.  We  may  get  along  with  conscience,  no  mat- 
tei'  how  we  carry  ()urselve;s ;  either  by  compromising 
with  the  devil  or  putting  it  away  to  keep.  But  the 
omnipresent  eye  of  our  fellows  we  never  can  escape 
fioin.  In  the  days  of  his  budding  genius  Jean  Paul 
lUchter  affected  certain  singularities  in  dress,  wishing, 
as  lie  expresses  it,  to  accustom  himself  to  the  censure 
of  others,  and  appear  a  fool,  that  he  might  learn  to 
endure  fools.  But  though  a  Diogenes  in  philosophy 
he  iinally  broke  under  it  and  gave  up  his  fashion. 
Few  theoretical  or  artificially  formed  societies  stand 
the  test  of  time.  Communities  are  born  and  grow ; 
they  arc  seldom  made. 

From  the  first  there  have  been  in  our  midst  men 
of  sterling  worth,  reticent,  modest,  with  brains  more 
active  than  their  tongues,  men  of  wonderful  and 
heroic  lives,  gems  of  manhood,  whose  quiet,  gentle 
deeds  go  unheralded  amidst  the  brass-and-cymbal 
?.  iundings  of  the  hurrying  crowd.  It  was  such  men  as 
these,  a  few  of  them,  brought  by  fortune  or  circum- 
staiice  to  the  front,  but  for  the  most  part  remaining 
a  jinwer  behind  appearances,  who  fasjiioncd  society  on 
tlicse  shores,  and  shaped  the  destiny  of  the  nation. 

Und'.T  the  slouched  hats  even  of  the  miners  were 
1  lains  tiiat  thought,  and  beneath  the  long  flowing 
uiikcni]»t  boards  shone  faces  of  homely  shi'cwdness. 
Ohsorvant  yet  visionary,  some  worked  hard,  striving 
toovorrulo  the  inexorable  cir'umstanees  that  ruled 
tli<  in,  while  others,  not\\ 'thstanding  their  a}t[)arent 
recklessness,  possessed  of  a  calmer  judgment,  of 
-;i'4acity  and  (luiekness  of  apprehension,  seized  the 
'avoiablo  o[)portunity,  and  imi)rovt>d  it  with  persever- 
ing industry  and  wonderful  power  of  endurance. 

A  liigher  estimate  was  jdaced  upon  human  nature 
hy  th'i  €'■  ■  rieiices  in  California.  Even  the  rough 
uid  unlettered  workingman,  without  wisdom  or  moral 
.excellence,  such  as  are  taught  in  the  schools,  displayed 
a  native  nobility  of  some  f<jrm  or  consistence,  which 


222 


NATIO^'-MAKING. 


^1.    I'f 


iff  :;<:■:• 


ir 


il    .": 


controverts  the  once-held  doctrine  of  total  deprca^•it^-. 
None  are  so  bad  that  no  good  can  be  found  hi  tli«'in  ; 
and  tlie  L>;reatest  wliiloni  saint  too  often  in  the  houi' r.f 
trial  is  found  to  be  the  irreatest  sinner. 

Kind-lioarted,  benevolent,  generous,  they  were  as 
a  rule  ;  although  some  of  them  could  be  as  crud  and 
extravagant  as  Caracalla.  Keady  at  any  cost  of  titiio 
or  trouble  to  rescue  those  in  peril,  to  help  the  dis- 
tressed, they  scorned  pay  for  such  services.  Whether 
or  not  they  possessed  faith  hi  God  or  their  country, 
they  had  faith  in  themselves,  and  depended  upon  tin  iii- 
selves  alone  for  their  success.  With  this  faith  tiny 
had  no  fear  of  misfortune  or  poverty. 

This  was  an  age  of  ventures  and  pioneer  pluii';es 
into  tlio  dark,  an  agt'  of  speculation  and  investigation, 
of  exploration  and  opening  of  unknown  wilderness's, 
in  which  restk'ss  schemers,  confident  in  their  own  k  - 
sources,  stood  read}'  to  undertake  anything,  from  tlie 
cutting  of  a  shi]i  canal  to  the  conquest  of  a  huiuhed 
thousand  Sonorans  with  a  handful  of  followers. 

Never  was  m(»re  versatility  of  talents,  or  more  apt- 
ness in  emergencies.  As  the  richest  placers  v.ne 
culled  over  and  began  to  bo  exhausted,  mining  ii.n- 
chinery  was  invented  with  marvellous  ra])idi(  ;i!id 
efficiency,  which  made  profitable  more  difficult  dig- 
gings. There  was  not  a  social  problem  that  conkl 
arise  but  was  solved  or  cut  upon  the  instant.  Although 
a  motkn'  crew,  without  law  or  order,  rights  of  propert}'- 
were  d<fined  and  res]iected ;  regulations  were  inmle 
concerning  mining  claims,  thieves  were  shot.  ;ukI 
ballot-box  stufl'ers  hanged.  The  trannnels  of  aiuiiiit 
forms.  iiiap[)licable  to  tlie  present  order  of  thhigs,  were 
flung  to  the  winds. 

T])(M'e  was  here  manifest  in  early  times  none  of  tliat 
inequality  between  labor  and  capital  common  in  oMer 
commimities,  where  the  poor  arc  servants  of  the  ilili, 
and  labor  is  ruled  by  capital.  In  Californi'i  lalxn  Vwis 
not  on-y  on  an  equality  with  capital,  but  in  mai'V  re- 
spects superior  to  it.     He  who  had  bone  and  siiiew  to 


SQCIETY  AND  POLITICS. 


223 


sell  was  wore  iTidependent  than  he  who  had  money 
witli  wliich  to  buy.  There  was  no  crmginjjf  <>f"  tlie 
poor  lii borer  before  tlie  ricli  employer.  All  started 
cvcniv;  all  must  work,  rich  and  poor  alike;  the  rich 
of  to-Jay  Diight  be  the  poor  of  to-morrow,  the  em- 
plover  of  to-day  to-morrow's  laborer.  For  several 
Vitus  tlie  prices  of  both  labor  and  capital  ruled  high 
in  Cilifornia,  because  people  at  the  cast  and  in  ICurope 
lacked  confidence  in  the  stability  of  the  country;  and 
wlieii  (Uir  pros|)erity  became  fixed,  and  men  and  money 
cnine  forward  Jiberally,  resources  inviting doveh^pment 
kcjit  so  fai'  in  advance  of  the  sup[»ly  of  the  means  of 
(levrlopiiu'nt,  that  the  rates  of  five  dollars  a  day  for 
i  oor  and  three  per  cent  a  month  for  the  use  of  money 
L     lined  but  slowlv. 

A^  slavery  shaped  politics,  the  chivalric  ideal,  and 
doiiu  Stic  manners  in  the  south,  so  did  austere  ])uri- 
tanism  and  the  exaltation  of  labor  in  the  north.  In 
Califiii'iia  were  both;  gold  was  slave,  and  the  gath- 
criii'i;  of  it  labor,  which  became  lord  of  all.  The  nat- 
ural and  material  predominated.  Brains  a!id  blood, 
wliieli  are  sure  in  the  end  to  prevail  over  brute  force, 
were  for  a  tin)e  under  ban.  Unassisted  by  muscular 
energy,  tlie  hitellcct  alone  would  not  discmbowi'l  the 
oartli,  turn  streams,  or  remove  boulders.  Pri(U)  nmst 
liav  a  f.ili;  soft  hands  nmst  bo  hardened.  The  aris- 
toirticy  o?  intellect  nuist  give  way  before  the  aristoc- 
raey  of  mus<  ''!.  The  connuon  laljorer  who  at  home 
liai.Ms.  r  il  -".i;ou''Sonthe  turn}))ke,  or  dug  canals,  was  as 
!:o()(K>  ii!i'  I  ?.uong  the  boulders  as  the  statesman  ormcr- 
cliant.  Til'  !■'  ;iest  miner  was  lord  of  the  land,  and 
oil  ri'A men,  doctors,  and  lawyers,  who  were  ol)liged  to 
drive  mules  or  wash  dishes,  were  hia  servants. 

^Fa^tcr  and  slave  from  the  southern  states  would 
Avork  and  live  together;  white  and  red  would  labor 
and  111'  down  together.  Failing  in  mining,  the  luiter- 
o'^eii'i  us  iiiass  would  segregate,  individuals  dropping 
otf  i'  ;  oursnits  more  cungeiiial,  or  better  adapted  to 
tilth  ;       ■  y-making  talents.     One  \vould  take  to  law, 


224 


NATION-MAKIXG. 


}S 


If^M  i 


Ki-    '' 


'«:;  i 


another  to  mcdiciuo;  one  would  bccoir.'  an  artist,  and 
wkctcli  c'laiius  and  cabins  and  portraits  for  liis  com- 
rade.^, finding  tlio  new  occupation  more  congenial  as 
well  as  more  [)rofital)le  than  the  old. 

Conservative  notions  were  cast  to  the  winds;  and, 
stripped  of  its  folly  and  trumpery  as  well  as  of  its 
more  comely  adornments,  society  stood  naked ;  ull 
things  seemed  reiluced  to  a  state  of  nature,  but  tlitj 
rajtidity  with  which  order,  e(|[uitv,  and  natural  justice 
formulated  themselves,  with  the  balance  of  right  and 
wrong  restored,  shows  the  inherent  ca[>abilities  and 
good  qualities  of  the  founders  of  the  new  regime. 

Not  only  WL  lor  made  honorable,  but  there  was 
a  chivalry  that  ..iveloped  all  industry  such  as  the 
marts  of  connnerce  had  never  before  witnessed,  j^'or 
so  small  a  conununity  traffic  was  conducted  on  a  grand 
scale,  and  the  way  of  it  was  f)rincely — more  jirincely 
than  the  way  of  princes.  Enter  a  shop;  it  might  l)e 
a  wooden  house,  a  tent,  or  an  uncovered  piece  of 
street  or  sandy  beach.  If  the  owner  regards  you  at 
all,  it  is  with  total  indifference  as  to  your  wealth  ur 
your  wants ;  he  is  not  at  all  trenmlous  as  to  thu  dollars 
he  shall  make  out  of  you.  If  you  object  to  the  price, 
you  are  at  liberty  to  leave  the  article.  The  seller  lias 
no  time  for  chaffering,  the  buyer  has  none  for  dhap- 
ening ;  if  they  are  old  Californians,  which  term  at 
this  juncture  implies  three  months  in  the  country, 
neither  of  them  w^ill  stoop  to  many  words  when  geld 
can  settle  the  difference. 

Circumstances  cast  business  methods  into  a  mould 
wi<lely  different  from  that  prevailing  in.  staid  old  coni- 
mercial  circles,  and  those  who  neglected  to  adapt 
themselves  to  it  were  more  liable  to  be  borne  down  ly 
the  current  than  those  who  abandoned  themselves 
freely  to  it.  Of  the  best  class  of  business  nu>n — those 
of  the  most  sterling  integrity  -and  soundest  iiorals, 
and  greatest  perseverance— who  arrived  liere  first,  few 
have  been  permanently  successful.     The  reality  so 


AMIDST  MANY  FAILURES. 


225 


111  artist,  and 

for  liis  c'oin- 

coiigenial  as 

I  winds;  and, 
ieW  as  of  it.s 
[  naked ;  all 
ture,  but  tlni 
atiiral  justice 
of  rii^lit  and 
^abilities  and 
'  ruginie. 

but  there  was 

■  sucb  as  the 

tnossod.     F'tr 

,ed  on  a  grand 

more  princely 

;  it  might  be 

[ercd  piece  of 

gards  you  at 

our  wealth  or 

to  the  dol'ars 

t  to  the  iirice, 

Vhe  seller  has 

mo  for  cheap- 

lich   term  at 

the  country, 

Ids  wdien  gold 


far  exceeded  the  romance,  that  the  wisest  calculations 
and  the  wildest  dreams  were  alike  one.  He  wlio 
should  tell  the  truth  regarding  the  future  was  a  rav- 
ing maniac,  while  the  imaginings  of  an  Arabian  story- 
teller might  find  credence.  Brimful  of  health,  hope, 
and)ition,  and  enterprise,  they  failed  more  in  overdo- 
ing than  in  lack  of  energy. 

Aspersions  were  freely  cast  upon  the  moral  and 
mercantile  reputations  of  Californians  from  abroad, 
some  of  which  it  must  be  admitted  were  true,  but 
many  of  them  wholly  unjust.  For  the  innumerable 
losses  and  failures  which  occurred  to  early  shi[)pers, 
thiy  were  themselves  g  x>atly  to  blame.  As  eager  as 
;iii\  to  make  speedy  fortune "=1  in  the  golden  wilderness, 
and  ignorant  of  the  country  and  of  the  necessities  of 
irs  visitors,  schemes  the  most  visionary  were  thought- 
lessly concocted,  the  blame  for  the  failure  of  which 
often  fell  alone  upon  the  instruments  selected  for  car- 
ivii.g  them  out.  A  large  amount  of  capital  was 
•lirown  upon  these  shores,  mostly  in  the  shape  of  mer- 
chandise, some  of  which  was  wholly  worthless. 
Money  was  advanced  by  capitalists  at  home  to  assist 
thosewho  were  to  divide  with  them  the  gains;  and  these 
speculators  in  the  lives  and  labors  of  others  were  nat- 
undly  disai)pointecl  if  the  pittance  advanced  for  out- 
fit and  ])asisage  did  not  l)ring  them  a  fortune  equal  to 
that  brought  to  Whittington  by  his  cat. 

It  is  a  conceded  fact  that  personal  honor  ranked 
liinh  in  the  mining  community,  and  is  so  maintained 
I  luring  the  present  wider  recourse  to  it  by  business 
men  geneially  ;  for,  owing  to  the  peculiar  climate  and 
ether  conditions,  the  credit  system  obtains  here  exten- 
sively.  In  the  absence  of  law  during  flush  times  men 
I'lided  themselves  on  their  integrity,  and  to  throw  a 
man  upon  his  honor  was  oftentimes  the  safest  security 
ill  trattic.  Hence  honesty  became  a  ruling  propensity ; 
^"  that  midst  the  hubbub  of  the  maddest  camp-life 
there  was  always  found  enough  of  righteousness  to 
f^ave  the  place. 

KssAYs  AND  Miscellany     15 


2-3J  NATION-.MAKINC. 

I'l  the  manner  of  sustain hii;'  tliis  in(le|K mlence  and 
dignity  at  manual  or  head  work,  a  vast  ilitt'erence  ap- 
peared wlien  comparing  the  several  nationalities. 
Wit!  I  one  an  earnestness  and  zest  for  brute  lalx/r,  uiiii 
anotlier  the  adjuncts  of  oljservation  and  thought,  liftt  d 
the  arm  to  easier  perfornianee  and  wider  scope  ;  hot!, 
in  marked  contrast  to  the  desultory  and  less  energelic 
efforts  exhibited  especially  by  Spanish-American  and 
Latin  races,  wliicli  trusted  more  to  good  fortune  tliaii 
to  personal  force.  These  traits  cropped  out  cleaily 
on  the  mining  ground.  A  Frenchman,  for  example, 
lacked  the  independence  and  practical  sagacity  iiects- 
sarv  for  emer»>encies  here.  Had  the  country  Im.ii 
peo[)led  entirely  by  tliem,  it  would  have  taken  ten 
times  as  long  to  develop  it.  Frenchmen  seemed 
afiaid  to  be  ahjne.  Yet  while  essentially  gregarious, 
they  manifested  little  of  that  nmtual  confidence  and 
cohesiveness  necessary  to  self-government,  and  tlie 
prosecution  of  such  mining  enterprises  as  could  hv 
successfully  carried  on  oidy  by  companies  of  twenty 
or  more  men.  Scarcisly  half-a-dozen  could  wt»rk  to- 
getlier  harmoniously  for  any  length  of  time  ;  and  m  t 
a  Frenchman  was  rarely  seen  prospecting  or  travellini.; 
in  tlici  mines  alone,  as  was  the  connnon  practice  nf 
Teutons  and  Anolo- Americans.  The  latter  thouLili  ef 
all  men  tlie  most  individually  independent,  can  at  the 
same  time  most  perfectly  unite  and  organize  for  the 
prosecution  of  a  connnon  object. 

Large  mining  com})anies  always  required  a  ])re[)(»n- 
derant  Anolo-Saxon  element  to  iiive  them  consisteiirv 
and  cohesion.  No  matter  how  lawless  and  overbear- 
ing the  respective  members  of  these  companies  \\\h^\<i 
be  in  an  individual  and  private  capacity,  they  weiv 
almost  invariably  quiet  and  orderly  in  their  association, 
submitting  cheerfully  to  the  direction  of  their  leadti. 
This  national  idea  of  uniting  for  strength,  merging 
the  proud  independence  of  one  into  the  proud  niut- 
pendence  of  the  whole,  is  essentially  American,  and 
cannot    be  practised,  even  on  so  small  a  scale  uo  a 


*ALL  EQUAL   UNDER   MAMMON. 


K  ncloiice  and 
itloieuof  iip- 
nationalitit  >. 
,e  lab</r,  with 
louglit,  lifttd 
'  scope  ;  both 
less  oiieruetit' 
American  ami 
fortuiu'  than 
id  out  clearly 
,  for  oxainjth', 
loacitv  lU'crs- 

(.•ouiitrv   lit  I'll 
Lve  taken  ten 
iineu   SLH'UK'd 
ly  greoari'ius, 
onfidcnce  and 
luiit,   and   the 
s  as  cwuld  hf 
lies  of  twenty 
■ould  work  tn- 
time  ;  and  \>t 
jo-  or  ti'avtdrni;4 
On  practiie  ut 
Lttertliougli'it' 
ut,  can  at  tho 
anize  f<»i'  the 

|ired  a  pivixm- 
nn  consistency 
land  oveilteai- 
Inpanies  mi.uht 
fity,  they  weiv 
drassoeialieii, 
j)f  their  leaded 
(igth,  meriting 
lie  proud  indo- 
aneriean.  and 
|l  a  scale  ua  A 


niiniiig  company,  so  successfully  by  l^uropeans,  or  by 
the  subjects  of  any  monarchy.  Perfect  equality  was 
the  fundamental  i)rinciple,  and  hi  companies  formed 
for  mining,  a  doctor  and  a  drayman,  a  lawyer  and  a 
liiul-earrier,  the  educated  the  refined  and  tiie  ignorant, 
worked  side  by  side  as  men.  Differences  were  laid 
aside,  and  a  union  complete  was  m  idc  under  the 
liaiiiier  of  Mannnon. 

Paitnersliip  was  more  than  business  assoc-iation  ;  it 
w.is  a  union  of  all  interests,  social  and  physical.  If  one 
fell  sick,  the  other  took  care  of  him;  if  one  got  drunk, 
tlie  other  helped  him  home;  if  both  fell  by  the  way- 
side, tliey  shared  tlieir  misfortune  together. 

These  men  whom  avarice  had  drawn  to  this  wilder- 
Htss  from  comfortable  homes  were  not  altogether 
avaricious;  not  so  avaricious  as  many  they  had  left 
htdiind.  If  any  stranger  were  hungry  they  fed  liim, 
if  any  conu'ade  were  in  need  they  divided  their  })os- 
scssions  with  him.  Notwithstanding  the  yellow  tinge 
of  their  dreams  and  toils,  nowhere  could  be  found  men 
more  indiflerent  to  gold,  men  who  guarded  it  so  care- 
lessly, who  squandered  it  so  recklessly,  who  parted 
fidiii  it  with  fewe.'  ]>angs,  than  among  these  who  had 
(•nine  so  tar  and  had  denied  themselves  so  much  to 
find  it.  The  humanity  engendered  by  the  gathering 
of  the  gold-diggers  was  crude  and  unique,  but  it  was 
.;viiuine  and  hearty.  Social  intercourse  was  pruned 
of  its  su})erfluous  courtesies,  and  blunt  goodfellowship 
took  the  place  of  meaningless  etiquette.  Greetings 
were  frank  and  cordial,  and  the  persistently  morose 
and  ill-tempered  were  cursed  into  kindness.  No  man 
of  any  parts  who  would  then  be  called  a  man  was 
long  a  stranger.  Almost  everyone  had  friends  In  the 
(ountry,  and  he  who  had  none  made  them,  and  pres- 
tntly  himself  began  to  feel  that  everybody  was  his 
friend. 

For  cool  courage,  indifference  to  hardships,  and  the 
manliness  with  which  they  met  the  severest  misfor- 
tunes, the  world  offers  no  such  examples  since  the 


mrrf 


'0:     )>'     |i   ii 


■il    Jl  SI 


;i  ' ■ 
■  I'll 


mm 


IP'?  '  ■■ 


Hi 


w;('rni 


228 


NATION-MAKING. 


days  of  Cortes.  The  miner  bore  his  ills  with  admi- 
rable indifference.  Far  from  bemoaning  his  fate  and 
sinking  under  discouragement, and  crying  all  is  lost  and 
no  chance  any  more,  he  recommenced  with  the  same 
energy  and  enthusiasm  a  new  apprenticeship.  If  from 
master  he  became  a  simple  workman,  it  did  not  jnut- 
ter.  If  overtaken  by  death  before  rising  again,  the 
struggle  was  ended,  and  to  death  he  resigned  himself. 
If  a  fire  swept  a  town,  and  half  the  inhabitants  were 
bankrupted,  there  was  no  repining,  no  mourning  over 
the  irretrievably  lost;  as  if  by  magic  buildings  rose 
again  and  business  proceeded  as  usual.  A  flood  boie 
awav  in  a  siuijle  niijht  the  results  of  a  sunnntr's 
labor ;  straightway  work  was  resumed  with  a  persist- 
ency worthy  a  nobler  cause.  Not  (mce  or  twice  hut 
ten  times  they  fell  and  rose  again,  thousands  of  tlieni 
dying  in  their  endeavors.  No  wonder  that  some  gave 
up  the  battle  and  succumbed,  victims  to  intemperance. 
And  lot  tho.so  blame  them  who  will ;  for  me  there  is 
no  sight  so  pitiful,  none  that  so  draws  upon  my  every 
sympathy,  as  tliat  of  a  once  noble  man  who  from  re- 
peated misfortune  irrecoverably  falls,  and  gives  liini- 
self  up,  body  and  soul,  to  the  demon  of  drink.  In 
his  besotted  insanity  that  man  is  ten  times  more  my 
brother  than  the  successful  trickster  or  the  untried 
sentimental  moralist,  who  so  scornfully  pass  him  by 
on  the  other  side. 

To  this  wrecking  of  humanity  contributed  not  a 
little  the  wandering  habits  of  miners,  and  their  periodic 
idleness,  largely  compulsory,  but  developing  therefrom 
into  a  custom  with  those  predisposed  to  indolence. 
Thus  was  gradually  unfolded  the  tramp  in  the  country 
and  the  loafer  in  the  towns ;  and  this  in  so  marked  a 
manner  that  it  became  necessary  to  coin  a  word 
which  should  express  their  character.  The  foremost 
feature  of  the  bummer  is  his  idleness.  He  is  the 
drone  of  society.  He  may  even  be  a  man  of  some 
property  ;  but  if  he  s[)ends  his  time  mainly  in  hanujing 
about  saloons,  gossiping,  smoking,  playing  cards  or 


THK  (JKANI)   VENTURE. 


229 


billiards,  he  is  a  buininor,  and  not  entitled  to  the  re- 
sjuct  even  of  the  professional  gambler  and  saloon- 
ket'per.  He  is  not  necessarily  a  vagabond,  but  he 
must  be  something  of  a  sponge.  He  is  the  figure 
head  of  thriftlessness ;  he  lives  without  work,  often 
dri'sses  well,  nobody  knows  how,  is  happy  and  jovial. 
Landing  on  these  shores  without  money,  without 
fricuds,  with  no  definite  purpose  in  view,  wandering 
homeless  about  the  streets  from  day  to  day,  seeking 
rest  and  finding  none,  seeking  occupation,  seeking  the 
means  to  relieve  the  day's  hunger,  the  dream  that 
lured  men  hither  is  soon  dissipated,  the  charms  of 
iKivilty  fly  before  inexorable  destiny',  and  the  dazzling 
pictures  of  the  past  fade  before  unrelenthig  want. 
Some  sink  into  vice,  insanity,  suicide,  others  cliancing 
upon  some  lucky  hit,  or  through  their  indomitable 
exertions  overcoming  the  vicissitudes  that  beset  their 
path,  rise  to  eminence,  and  live  to  laugh  at  their  fonner 
tiials;  many,  very  many,  go  down  to  the  grave  alone, 
unknown,  uncared  for,  with  a  dying  curse  upon  the 
tinsel  allurements  that  drew  them  from  home  and 
wrought  their  ruin.  Yet  those  behind  come  crowd- 
ing on,  the  lessons  of  sad  experience  taught  others 
having  no  meaning  for  them.  Well,  let  them  make 
the  venture.  Life,  after  all  is  but  a  wager,  and  he 
alone  is  sure  to  lose  who  will  not  stake  it. 


Now  that  this  grand  festival  is  over,  and  the  mor- 
row has  come,  stand  on  the  corner  of  a  street  in 
cosmopolitan  San  Francisco  and  watch  the  faces  as 
they  pass.  Behold  what  manner  of  men  are  these  i 
Out  of  great  tribulation  they  have  come,  some  of 
them  unscathed;  or  it  may  be  they  are  yet  in  trouble. 
The  once  innocent,  happy,  and  contented  look  lies 
deeply  buried  under  business  care  and  nerv«^)us  striv- 
ing. You  see  forms  bent  by  labor,  limbs  mutilated 
by  accidents,  faces  furrowed  by  disappointment  or 
disease,  hair  whitened  by  sorrow  and  remorse,  eyes 
diumied  and  bleared  by  sensuality,  cheeks  flabby  and 


n 


;  ^  ::l 


!1  t 


WM 


mnt 


'S  i 


2;*o 


NATION-MAKINO. 


WoatfMl  liy  (liunl<(inness,  the  {spirit  rloiided  with  shame 
uikI  the  (!<)iis('i('ii('(!  scared  with  tlio  oiiuh^rs  of  holl. 
And  anK)n<if  those  wlio  liavo  overcome',  who  have  suc- 
ceeded ill  life's  battle,  you  see  their  fossilized  features, 
their  iiitelU-ctual  iuaiiit}',  and  tlu;  gloomy  light  tliat 
glimmers  from  a  ho}>e]ess  heart,  from  hearts  yet  burn- 
ing in  the  un<{ueuchable  fire  of  avarice,  each  of  whicli 
knovvcth  its  own  bitterness. 

How  iiiany  wiecked  lives  are  here;  how  many  have 
already  gone  down  to  ju-rdition  unknown  and  uncarcd 
for,  buried  beneath  mountain  snow,  rotting  at  the  foot 
of  a  j)recipice,  devoured  by  wild  beasts  or  laid  under 
the  ground  by  strangers  who  knew  not  even  their 
names  1  Nevertheless  from  behind  these  pain-chiselKd 
features  shines  out  many  a  noble  soul,  whose  battliii^s 
and  victories  and  defeats  none  but  itself  can  cn  or 
know ;  its  blunted  sensibilities  and  dead  energies  nuik- 
ing  it  a  thing  objectiimable  to  its  fellows.  Let  him 
who  would  study  the  effect  of  mind  upon  body,  the 
influence  of  the  moral  upon  the  intellectual,  the  sub- 
tle impress  of  wrong-doing  and  right-doing  upon  the 
human  face,  pause  here  a  moment,  for  on  no  other 
corner  in  Christendom  will  he  find  such  riddles  to 
solve. 

What  were  to  them  the  attractions  of  climate,  the 
seductions  of  scenery,  the  natural  wealth  and  good 
qualities  of  the  country  ?  Blinded  by  their  losses  and 
mishaps  many  saw  neither  beauties  nor  benefits.  Dis- 
gust and  home-sickncHS  enveloped  them  like  a  cloud  : 
and  not  until  they  nearcd  Sandy  Hook  on  their  re- 
turn did  the  sun  seem  to  shine.  The  eyes  of  others 
were  by  their  very  successes  so  fastened  upon  tlie 
ground  that  they  could  not  see  the  stars  ;  so  absorbed 
were  their  minds  in  their  various  pursuits,  that  the 
beauties  of  earth  were  lost  upon  them. 

The  thought  of  making  in  California  a  permanent 
home  was  at  the  first  entertained  by  few.  To  achieve 
wealth,  at  least  to  gather  gold  enough  to  satisfy  mod- 
erate desires,  to  pay  off  the  mortgage  on  the  old  home,  to 


MiAI'TATIONS   ANI>   UK.CONCIMATIONS. 


•231 


sliiild  the  a'^vd  ]»arcnts,  or  assist  brothers  and  sisters  to 
tstiii)lish  business,  or  jteradveiiture  to  marry,  and  tlicn 
to  ri'turn — sucli  was  the  ambition  of  nearly  every  man 
who  entered  Calitbrnia  in  1841).  To  rear  a  family  in 
such  a  })lac'e  as  the  country  where  were  neither 
sclioojs  nor  churches,  wliere,  upon  the  surface  at  least, 
iiKii  were  as  uncouth  as  bears,  and  coarser  and  metro 
lirutal  than  the  iboi'iLjinals  before  the  cliann  of  the 
wilderness  was  })rokcn,  was  not  to  be  thought  of,  and 
the  towns,  hot-beds  of  iniquity,  were  but  little  In-tter. 
Meanwhile  circumstances  iiiterposed  to  modify 
tlieir  views.  Often  is  chronic  home-sickness  cured  or 
at  least  alleviated  by  the  recei[)t  of  letters  and  papers. 
Not  that  affection  is  thereby  diminished,  but  being 
transported  by  tlies(!  missives  to  familial'  scenes,  ](mg- 
in;4S  to  be  there  are  in  a  measurt;  satisfied  ;  fears  arise 
lest  the  prospects  of  success  liave  been  drawn  in  too 
liii;h  colors,  and  considerations  arise  as  to  oner's  condi- 
tion if  at  once  returned  thither.  Hence  the  wealtli- 
sci'ker  beconies  more  reconciled  t<>  wait  a  little  htnger 
aiid  lui])rove  Ins  prospects. 

The  realization  of  such  hopes  was  not  frequent.  Of 
all  the  first  steamship  pioneers,  who  deemed  them- 
selves so  fortunate  in  arrivhiij  at  the  new  El  Dorado 
before  any  of  the  tliousands  then  preparing  to  follow 
thoni.  how  few  succeeded  hi  securinu:  tlie  coveted 
wealth  or  lived  to  enjoy  the  placid  old  age  of  opulence 
and  ease  so  often  dreamed  of!  Bags  of  gold,  wealth 
— all  were  but  husks  on  which  these  prodigals  fed. 

hy  autumn  1850  the  character  of  the  population 
was  somewhat  chan«jfed.  The  onlv  obiect  was  no 
longer  to  delve  for  gold  wherewith  to  buy  pleasure  at 
the  east :  most  of  the  class  intent  on  that  purpose  hud 
returned  home  or  were  stiL  at  work  in  the  mines  uiia- 
hle  to  return.  Those  who  now  came  included  many 
returned  Californians  bent  on  making  California 
their  permanent  residence.  With  the  arrival  of  vir- 
tuous women,  and  of  men  with  their  families,  the 
moral  aspect  of  California  began  to  change,  and  the 


M>ll 


m 


m  ;. 


232 


NATION-MAKING. 


tendency  at  one  time  apparent  of  making  wonun 
maHfuline  was  corrected. 

Tlje  influence  of  individuals  j:>rew  fainter  by  dogrct  s 
as  society  assumed  form  and  comeliness,  ami  hcL^an  tn 
issue  its  mandates  as  a  concentrated  and  crystallized 
fact,  based  on  the  common-sense  of  rational  conuiui- 
nities  of  intelllLjent  nien.  I^ut  society  had  ]on<j  t(» 
strug*rlc'  with  a  lack  of  coherence;  its  several  elements 
required  time  to  coalesce.  There  was  too  mucli 
change,  too  much  competition,  too  nmch  manifestation 
of  the  spirit  of  cgojsm;  but  to  all  of  which  time  broui^lit 
a  remedy. 

It  could  already  be  seen  that  a  i)rilliant  society. 
composed  of  the  intellectual  and  polished  from  iill 
nationalities,  was  within  the  reach  t»f  San  Francisco, 
and  that  this  magnificent  fusion  of  the  elegant  atid 
refined,  each  contributing  the  best  traits,  would  sonic 
day  be  achieved.  As  yet  we  find  a  marked  contrast 
in  the  free  and  friendly  mingling  of  men  and  wonun 
here  and  elsewhere.  This  is  one  phase  of  the  restless- 
ness connected  with  migration  fever  that  dp  mk  n 
hither,  with  the  nomadic  and  desultory  mi'  Mfc 

and  gambling  spirit,  and  the  periodicity  of  farming 
and  many  other  industrial  operations.  It  is  also  at- 
tributable to  the  frivolous  disposition  of  the  wonieii 
of  an  inferior  class  as  compared  with  the  males,  under 
the  eliminating  influence  of  distance,  difficulty  of  ac- 
cess, and  frontier  hardships,  and  too  nmch  intent  on 
marrying  money  for  enjoy nient  and  display.  Indis- 
posed for  household  duties,  she  has  given  an  abnormal 
development  to  hotel  and  lodging-house  life,  with  its 
ease  and  indolence,  and  has  consequently  widely 
undermined  the  taste  for  domesticity  a?xl  for  the 
home  circle.  Among  other  results  is  an  increasing; 
host  of  unmarried  men,  a  forced  recourse  to  ]Hil)lic 
places  of  anmsement,  and  a  giddiness  of  temperauunt 
which  is  not  conducive  to  the  maintenance  of  the  staid 
moral  tone  of  puritan  times. 

Neither  separations  nor  o^reat  wealth  are  conducive 


THE  NWiLECTED   WIFE. 


2:u 


t(i  quiet  marital  relation  How  many  illiterate  men, 
ill  times  of  early  poverty  married  to  illiterate  women, 
when  riches  made  them  worshipful  amonjjf  their  fel- 
lows, and  redder  lips  and  brighter  eyes  than  those  of 
tlirir  old  and  careworn  helpnioots  smiled  upon  them 

-how  many  has  prosperity  thus  turned  from  the 
faithful  partner  of  former  days  to  fresher  attractions, 
thus  sowinj^  seeds  of  dissension,  soon  growhig  into 
weeds  of  discord  and  divorce  1  Moreover,  in  a  country 
wlicrc  women  were  comparatively  few  in  number,  the 
iiei^lncted  wife  always  found  friends  of  the  opposite 
sex  to  lend  their  sympathy  and  advise  separation. 
Ill  California  the  ease  in  dissolvin*^  marriages  was 
only  equalled  by  the  facility  with  which  inerctricious 
unions  were  pronounced  legal. 

The  world  may  look  upon  the  graceless  doings  of 
the  jvast  and  censure,  but  the  soul  of  progress  is  not 
of  that  world.  The  prim  and  puritanical  may  regar<l 
the  proHigate  acts  of  the  picmeer^,  and  heave  a  sigh 
of  righteous  wrath,  but  the  prim  and  puritanical  are 
l)lind  to  the  great  mysteries  of  civilization;  for  at  all 
epochs  in  the  refining  of  the  race,  such  deeds,  and 
worsen  are  patent,  and  to  these  and  kindred  evils 
sanctimonious  iniprecators  owe  their  very  primness 
and  purity.  The  achievement  of  great  social  results 
iO(iuiros  a  deep  stirring  of  the  different  elements,  even 
t )  the  noxious  settlements  at  the  bottom.  These 
times,  and  the  like,  were  the  world's  nurseries  of  free- 
tli»m.  The  knees  of  tyranny  smote  together,  and  all 
tlu!  world  felt  it,  when  France  and  171)2  made  kings 
of  the  canaille.  Does  the  world  yet  fully  comprehend 
it?  California  and  1849  were  the  first  to  make  capi- 
talists of  the  masses,  the  first  to  break  down  the 
rtinisy  fabric  of  caste  and  social  duplicity,  the  first  to 
point  effectively  the  finger  of  scorn  at  time-honored 
<"int,  hypocrisy,  and  humbug.  Here  the  nations  of 
the  earth  met  together  and  learned  the  first  lesson 
of  social  freedom,  freedom  from  that  hatefullest  and 
strongest  of  all  tyrannies,  the  eye,  not  of  God,  but  of 


234 


NATlON-MAKINd. 


rJv'i  ■!' 


::.»  '\\ 


coiiservativo  society.  Tlicn  they  dispersed,  and  caiuo 
aijaiii,  and  aiijaiu  dispersed,  and  the  winds  of  hi'avcn 
never  scattered  seeds  f'urtlier  or  more  surely  tli.-iii 
these  migrations  and  remigTjitions  did  the  subhnie  and 
sim[)lo  doctrines  of  social  liberty  without  license,  of 
individual  self-restraint  witiiout  socird  tyramiy. 

In  the  admixture  of  races  in  California  we  have 
])ractically  a  conujress  of  nations,  wliose  effect  upim 
the  n'ood-will  and  advancenu'nt  of  mankind  will  lie 
tclt  more  and  more  as  the  ccMituries  |)ass  hy.  In  tlie 
interchanue  of  nmtual  benefits  which  fuse  under  llu 
inlluences  of  o-ood  sjjovernnu'nt  an<l  free  mstitutitms. 
and  the  cords  of  sympathy  railiating  hence  to  i-\{'V\ 
land,  bari'iers  of  sectional  jealousy  anil  prejudice  arc 
broken  down,  national  eccentricities  are  worn  away, 
and  every  man  bei>ins  to  see  something  good  in  liis 
neighbor.  Nor  is  iiiis  all.  This  fusion  of  the  rac(  s, 
this  intermixture  of  the  best  from  (!verv  nation  risi  s 
and  swells  into  a  leaven,  which  reacts  upon  the  origi- 
nal contributors,  nwd  leavens  the  whole  mass  of 
mankhid. 


W^  I 


CIlArTKII   XI. 


TWO  SIDES  OF  A  VEXKD  (,>UKST10N. 

ir.'ivo  I  ni)t  lu'.-inl  (lie  soa  puUV'd  up  witli  wIikIh, 
Itafje  liUi'  ail  angry  IxKir,  chafed  witli  wwcat  ? 

—  Tiiiiiiii'i  till'  S/iriir. 

Pi;()1!.\i.:y  ucvcr  was  tlierc  so  favorable  an  opportu- 
nit\'  for  working  out  one  of  tlic  grandest  of  race 
prolilrius  as  in  tlu>  republic  of  tlu'  United  States 
(lining  tbe  first  lialf  century  of  its  existence.  Tlic 
|vi)|;lc  wlio  declared  se}niration  from  (jlreat  Biluiin, 
and  fouglit  out  tlieir  indepen<lencc  with  consummate 
(Miurage  and  self-reliance,  were  among  the  noblest  of 
the  (>artli.  There  were  none  to  be  found,  among  the 
most  fa  vorednations,  of  higher  niaidiood,  of  freer  minds, 
(tr  purer  liearts.  Intellectually  emancipated  above 
all  others,  tlieir  purposi'S  W(>re  exalted  and  their  lives 
liiioic  and  virtuous.  Traiiu'd  in  the  school  of  adver- 
sitv  and  forced  to  self-denial,  forced  to  carv<'  out  their 
fortunes,  to  subdue  the  wilderness,  to  subdue  their 
iiwii  passions,  they  had  acquired  a  hardihood,  a  l>liys- 
ical  and  moral  enduram »«,  a  self-adaptation  to  circum- 
stances, and  the  power  of  subordinating  circumstances 
ttt  an  iron  will,  such  as  could  Ix^  foun<l  in  no  other 
(•(iininunity.  And  as  they  themselves  had  been  dis- 
ciplined, so  they  taught  their  children— to  work,  en- 
dure, worslii[)  (irod,  gov'iM-n  themselvi's.  and  be  intelli- 
'j^cnt  and  fret\ 

The  material  conditions  were  most  favorable;  lands 
unlimited,  prolific  soil,  tem|)ejatt>  climate,  with  no  de- 
inoralizing  metals  or  serviK'  lace.  They  had  come 
for  conscience'  sake,  for  religious  and  ])olitical  liberty, 


236 


TWO  SIDES  OF  A  VEXED  QUESTION. 


not  for  gold  or  furs.  The  native  men  and  women 
they  encountered  were  poor  material  for  slaves,  i)re- 
ferring  to  die  rather  than  work ;  so  they  let  them  diu, 
even  helping  them  betimes.  Wild  men  and  wild 
beasts  were  in  the  way,  and  it  was  the  will  of  God  that 
both  should  disappear  from  the  forest  when  the  men 
of  conscience  laid  their  axe  at  the  root  of  the  tree. 

No  start  in  the  race  of  empire-building  could  have 
been  better ;  and  had  this  course  been  jireserved,  all 
other  nations  would  now  be  far  behind.  Had  tluro 
been  exercised  less  haste ;  had  the  men  of  nerve  and 
conscience,  of  nmscle  and  morality,  been  less  eager  to 
get  rich,  less  eager  to  see  forests  cleared,  lands  poi>u- 
lated,  towns  built,  and  governnjont  established  ;  had 
they  been  satisfied  to  be  wise  and  prudent,  rearing 
sons  and  daughters  to  work  and  abstain,  to  cultivate 
body  and  mind  alike,  expanding  in  strength,  intelli- 
gence, and  virtue,  and  reserve  for  them  and  their  des- 
cendants the  vast  domain  which  has  been  given  to 
others,  tongue  cannot  tell  the  result. 

The  mistake  arose  from  lack  of  patience  and  foresight. 
The  theory  was  that  there  was  practically  no  limit  to 
land.  The  watcliword  was  freedom ;  air  and  water 
were  free,  likewise  religion  and  government,  also  land. 
All  were  the  free  gift  of  God,  and  should  be  hw  to 
all  the  children  of  God,  to  white  and  black,  to  Chris- 
tian and  barbarian.  The  connnonwealth  should  i)o 
erected  on  this  basis,  and  all  the  nations  of  the  earth 
should  be  invited  to  participate.  All  mankind  should 
find  on  one  spot  of  earth  at  least  freedom  in  its  fullest 
extent,  freedom  of  body,  mind,  and  estate. 

Here  was  truly  great  magnanimity  displayed  by 
our  vcMierated  forefathers,  both  in  theory  and  practice; 
wo  will  not  in([uire  too  closely  as  to  the  part,  ifaiiy, 
[)layed  by  an  inordinate  desire  for  wealth  and  progress. 
For  a  hundred  years  every  possible  effort  was  made 
to  bring  in  j)o[)ulation,  fill  up  the  country,  and  get  rid 
of  the  land.  Every  possible  inducement  was  oifered; 
all  should  be  free  to  thiiik  and  act  and  enjoy ;  tven 


TANGLED  LOGIC. 


237 


our  government  we  would  divide  with  all  the  world. 
Little  attention  was  paid  to  quality ;  everything  in 
the  sliapc  of  a  man  counted,  and  one  man  was  as  good 
as  another  in  the  sight  of  God  and  under  the  banner 
of  freedom.  With  some  of  fair  endowment  was  gath- 
ered much  of  the  world's  refuse,  and  so  the  country 
was  peopled. 

Nevertheless,  in  due  time,  the  logic  of  our  well- 
plaiimd  institutions  became  unreasonable  and  erratic 
in  certain  quarters,  sometimes  puzzling  to  the  simple 
mind.  There  is  the  enigma  of  the  African,  who 
amidst  a  glorious  exuberance  of  freedom  is  first  made 
slave  and  then  master,  and  seemingly  as  much  out  of 
place  in  one  position  as  in  the  other.  But  while  the 
l)l;i('k  man  has  thus  been  made  to  underiro  the  ironv 
of  American  liberty,  the  white  European  enters  into 
the  enjoyment  of  rulership  at  once,  while  the  off-col- 
ored Mongolian  is  permitted  to  be  neither  slave  nor 
master. 

It  was  natural  to  quarrel  with  Great  Britain  over 
the  ii;reat  Oregon  game- preserve^ ;  nations  like  men 
ojijoy  their  disputes  if  by  any  twist  tluy  can  found 
them  on  some  fimcied  principle.  When  the  great 
slice  was  secured  from  Mexico,  the  Americans  who 
traveised  the  continent  wen;  angry  to  find  the  cliarm- 
iiiLi"  valleys  of  California  so  largely  occupied  by  Mexi- 
cans. And  when  gold  was  found  in  the  Sierra  foot- 
hills, the  question  immediately  arose,  Can  foreigners 
carrv  away  our  nuij*j:ets  ? 

American  miners  said  No,  but  American  statesmen, 
having  before  their  eyes  pn^cepts  and  traditions,  said 
Yes.  Xevertheless,  the  Pike  county  men  drove  out 
Mexicans  and  frightened  away  FrenchnuMi,  while  the 
state  legislature  levelled  its  anathema  at  the  Chinese 
in  the  form  of  a  foreign  miners'  tax,  of  first  twenty 
(lollais,  but  finally  reduced  to  four  dollars,  the  former 
sum  heing  more  than  could  be  extorted  from  poor  men 
with  poor  implements  working  ground  which  had  been 
abandoned  by  the  superior  race. 


'23S 


TUO  .SIDES  OF  A   VKX1;D  QUESTION. 


ri'H;':.  '' 


Thus  it  oocuned  tliat  not  until  tliu  uttnost  limit 
of  their  country  had  been  reached  by  westward  push- 
in>>'  settlers,  on  the  shores  of  tlio  Pacific,  did  the  people 
of  the  United  States  take  thouijlit  of  what  they  Jiad 
hern  doing-,  California  beinjjj  the  first  to  enter  a  prac- 
tical protest  against  the  unlimited  and  indiscriminate 
admission  of  foreigners. 

But  before  this  the  evil  had  been  done.  The  re- 
public had  not  posed  before  the  world  as  the  land  of 
limitless  freedom  during  a  century  or  more;  tnr 
nothing.  Low  Euro})eans  had  come  hither  in  dr()V(s. 
lowering  the  standards  of  intelligence  and  morality, 
and  [)olluting  our  pt)litics. 

Nor  was  the  ground  taken  by  California  in  opposiiiir 
foreign  imminration  reasonable  or  tenable ;  her  atti- 
tude  and  action  did  not  arise  from  the  honest  and  sin- 
cere convictions  of  her  best  citizens.  Instead  of  level  liii*>' 
her  influence  against  the  princijde,  she  made  war  aloiu; 
on  an  hidividual  (dass,  on  a  single  nationality,  not  In 
any  means  the  one  that  had  done,  was  doing,  or  was 
likely  to  do,  the  greatest  injury  to  the  connnonwialtli; 
indeed,  it  was  the  most  harmless  class  of  all,  its  (diicf 
offence  being  the  only  one  which  was  never  mentioned, 
the  fact  that  it  would  not  and  could  not  vote. 

The  general  government  took  the  matter  (juirily. 
It  could  not  yet  see  any  great  nustake  it  had  made: 
it  would  not  see  the  cess-pools  of  innnorality  in  all  tin' 
larger  cities,  and  liow  filthy  had  become  its  piditics; 
above  all,  it  could  not  all  at  once  turn  its  back  upiiii 
tradition  and  give  the  lie  to  a  hundred  Fourtli-ct- 
Julvs,  But  in  time  demairogism  made  an  ininics- 
sion,  and  a  reluctant  <'onsent  was  finally  secured  to 
exclude  from  our  shores  any  further  .accession  of  hiw 
Asiatics,  while  still  permitting  low  Africans  and  lew 
Europeans  not  only  to  come  to  tlieir  heart's  content. 
but  to  mingle  in  our  government  and  bccom>'  our 
masters,  attaining  their  ends  b}'  means  so  vile  that  no 
honest  man  can  enter  the  lists  against  them. 


OUR  TOO  HASTY  FOREFATHERS. 


23y 


Few  enjoy  hearing  the  unpopular  side  of  a  question. 
Still  fewer  care  to  present  the  facts  on  both  sides 
of  a  diisputed  proposition.  It  is  a  thankless  task, 
l)ii!iL;iii;4'  down  upon  the  head  that  undertakes  it  the 
coiiiienniation  of  all  concerned.  We  prefer  our  preju- 
dices to  facts  ;  we  do  not  like  enlightenment  that  dis- 
tuibs  our  self-complacency.  Nevertheless,  every 
question  has  two  sidi'S,  and  it  is  not  always  time  lost 
to  ciilmly  look  a  sul)ject  through,  instead  of  shutting 
tiir  c\'t'S  and  surren<lv"ing  to  blind  tradition,  or  bel- 
lowing for  whichever  }>ro}>osition  pays. 

The  Chinese  question  rarely  receives  notice  on  niore 
tiiati  one  side,  and  at  the  narrowest  part  of  that. 
Liki'  iilmost  every  dis[)uted  point,  it  is  not  a  point  at 
all.  I)ut  something  wider  and  deeper  than  was  ever 
(Inanied  of  until  it  came  to  be  sounded.  As  between 
tlio  Chinaman's  side  and  that  of  other  foreigniTs, 
tlioro  is  indeed  the  point ;  Imt  it  widens  as  we  consider 
Asia's  side  and  America's,  man's  side  and  (lod's. 

Ill  passing  upon,  let  alone  proving,  any  ono  of  tin; 
many  [)ro[)ositions  surrounding  the  main  proposition, 
wo  encounter  (|uestions  as  difficult  of  solution  as  the 
main  (question  itself  For  instance,  it  has  been  gen- 
erally held  here  in  America,  as  we  have  seen,  that 
iimnigration  from  Europe  is  desirable ;  that  't  is  l)en- 
ctirial  to  have  our  lands  occupied  as  soon  at  possible, 
reclaimed  from  savagismand  placed  under  cultivation. 
It'  wo  ask  why  it  is  a  blessing,  the  answer  is, the  more 
population  the  more  wealth  and  development.  But 
arc  poj)ulation,  wealth,  and  development  desirable 
bet'oru  every  other  consideration?  Our  large  cities 
liavo  population,  wealth,  and  devolopmeni:,  and  they 
aie  hot-beds  of  corruption,  morally  and  [)olitically 
rotten.  Is  this  state  of  things  in  every  respect  so 
inueli  better  than  when  the  wild  man  chased  the 
wild  buck  over  these  now  incorporated  ground.s? 
A;4ain,  good  lands  are  becoming  scarce.  The  d(>- 
scendants  of  Americans  are  rapidly  multiplying. 
Soon  there  will  be  no  more  new  lands  for  them.      Is 


240 


TWO  SIDES  OF  A  VEXED  QUESTION 


imM  ' 


I .  'i 


it  conducive  to  tlie  highest  good  of  the  commonwealth 
so  hastily  to  partition  soil  among  strangers^  Or  if 
it  be  best  to  have  the  land  quickly  occupied,  should 
we  not  discriminate  as  to  the  quality  of  humanity 
admitted  for  colaborers  in  race  and  nation  makitji;-  ? 
We  certainly  do  not  want  the  yellow-skinned  heatlicn 
to  marry  with  our  sons  and  daughters,  and  occupy 
our  lands;  but  do  we  want  the  black,  bad-smelliiig 
African,  or  the  quarrelsome  European  ? 

This,  then,  is  one  side  of  the  question  :  that  a  low 
class  of  innnigration  is  worse  than  none ;  that  it  is 
better  for  a  people  to  do  their  own  work  rather  tlian 
hire  it  done;  that  the  Chinese  are  certainly  objection- 
able, being  heathen,  filthy,  immoral,  and  inexorai)ly 
alien  in  heart  and  mind  to  all  our  institutions,  social 
and  political.  The  other  side  is :  that  even  if  no  im- 
migration is  desirable,  if  we  admit  anv  we  should  ad- 
mit  all;  that  the  Chinese  arc  no  more  objectionahli 
than  others;  that  laborers  are  required  to  devtlop 
agriculture  and  manufactures;  and  that  it  is  not  d»- 
sirablo  that  any  low  class  of  foreigners  should  amal- 
gamate with  our  people  or  meddle  in  our  politics. 

If  material  development,  the  occupation,  and  culti- 
vation of  lands,  and  the  unfoldinix  of  mines  and  man- 
ufactures  be  most  desirable,  then  we  deceive  ourselves 
and  malign  the  Asiatic  in  repudiating  him ;  for  he  is 
the  best  man  for  that  ]>urpose,  better  than  the  African 
or  the  European.  He  works  as  the  steam-eiit;inr. 
the  cotton-gin,  woollen-mill,  and  sewing-machine  Wdik, 
or  as  the  mule  or  gang-plow — that  is  he  does  the 
most  work  for  the  least  money,  absorbs  the  least  in 
food  and  clothes,  and  leaves  the  wealth  he  creates  for 
general  use,  getting  himself  out  of  the  country  when 
the  country  has  no  further  use  for  him,  not  stepping 
to  agitate,  or  amalgamate,  or  try  his  hand  at  bribing, 
ruling,  and  demoralizing  the  too  susceptible  Ameri- 
cans, and  carrying  away  with  him  the  few  metal 
dollars  which  he  has  justly  earned. 

High  wages  may  affect   humanity,  and  raise  the 


MACHINES  AND  MACIUNEMEN. 


241 


stniulard  of  comfort  and  intelligence  in  the  community, 
but  it  is  low  wages  that  promote  manufactures  or 
otlicr  material  development.  It  is  idle  to  argue,  as 
nun  will  do,  that  the  Califc^rnia  raisin  maker,  or  cigar, 
or  cloth,  or  leather  manufacturer,  can  enter  the  world's 
niaiki't  and  compete  more  successfully  having  to  pay 
for  l;il)or  two  dollars  than  one  dollar  a  day. 

For  twenty  years  Chinese  labor  has  acted  as  a  pro- 
tective tarift*,  enabling  California  to  establish  wealth- 
creating  industries,  which  form  the  basis  of  her  present 
and  future  greatness;  and  it  would  be  about  as  sensi- 
ble to  drive  out  all  steam-engines  or  other  machinery 
as  lor  this  reason  alone  to  drive  out  the  Chinese. 

Again,  wages,  the  price  paid  for  labor,  is  a  relative 
quantity.  Low  wages,  other  things  being  equal,  are 
no  more  detrimental  to  comfort  and  the  general  well- 
being  of  the  community  than  high  wages  with  the 
price  of  connnodities  correspondingly  high,  and  the 
labor  wage  regulates  the  prices  of  raw  material  as 
\v(  11  as  of  the  manufactured  article.  Chinese  labor 
is  in  some  branches  little  cheaper  than  white  labor. 
Tlif  variations  of  wages  are  affected  by  the  efficiency 
and  faithfulness  of  the  laborer,  and  not  by  religious 
belief  or  the  color  of  the  skin.  In  California  a  Chinese 
cook  now  receives  from  twenty-five  to  thirty-five  dol- 
lars a  month,  and  is  generally  preferred  tc  a  white 
cook  at  the  same  rate,  particularly  on  farms,  because 
lif  will  do  more  and  better  work,  and  with  less  com- 
l»lal)ilng.  But  the  Chinese  are  becoming  every  day 
ninre  independent.  They  comprehend  the  situation 
fully.  Labor  has  no  more  conscience  Ui'm  capital ; 
whi  n  there  is  a  scarcity  it  raises  the  [)ricp. 

The  European  assumes  that  he  is  a  better  man 
than  the  Asiatic,  in  which  position  he  "s  upheld  by 
the  politician  seeking  votes,  by  tradesmen  deniring 
custom,  and  by  newspapers  desiring  circulation.  Yet 
lio  is  unwilling  to  enter  the  arena  be.sido  the  !Mon'j;ol- 
i;mi,  put  his  superiority  to  the  test,  and  allow  compt-n- 
satiun  to  be  measured  by  merit,     lie  is  captious  and 

KlJ.SAYS  AND  MI8CELLANY        16 


242 


TWO  SIDES  OF  A  VEXED  QUESTION. 


^'i\ 


critical,  alle<yinsj  that  he  is  liurailiated  and  labor  dc- 
graded  thereby,  thouj^h  he  does  not  object  to  follow 
the  horse  or  work  beside  a  steam-engine.  It  is 
mainly  an  excuse  with  him.  When  ottered  work  at 
good  wages  he  too  often  demands  yet  higher  pay  and 
fewer  hours,  with  the  slowest  possible  movement  of 
the  pick  and  shovel.  He  is  quick  to  take  ottcnco,  and 
ever  ready  to  abandon  work  and  smoke  his  pi])o  on 
the  street  corners  among  his  growling  companions. 
He  does  not  want  to  bo  a  laborer  unless  he  can  b(;  at 
the  same  time  master,  and  rule  in  labor  as  in  govern- 
ment. 

The  solution  of  the  new  civilization's  labor  question 
is  not  to  be  found  in  Adam  Smith  or  John  Stuart 
Mill.  There  may  be  a  return  to  New  England's 
early  ways,  when  the  farmers'  sons  and  daughters  did 
the  work,  with  or  without  a  hired  man  or  two,  and 
in  the  town  factories  the  native  poor  found  a  place. 
But  if  this  is  ever  to  be,  something  is  to  be  done  in 
the  meantime.  Farming  lands  west  of  the  Mississijipi 
are  not  laid  out  in  New  England  proportions.  Tlmv 
is  more  work  than  the  sons  can  do,  and  the  yoiim: 
lady  daughters  will  not  cook  and  wash  for  tli(^  farin 
hands.  A  million  laborers  are  wanted  immediately 
west  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  not  for  purpo.st  s  of 
purification,  amalgamation,  or  social  or  political  re- 
quirements, but  to  plant  and  gather,  fence  lands  and 
tend  stock,  preserve  products  and  develop  manufac- 
tures. They  must  be  had,  or  the  industries  of  this 
country  will  suffer  as  never  before.  Where  are  they 
to  come  from  ? 

iience  it  must  be  that  in  the  minds  of  our  oidi^ht- 
enod  advocates  of  immigration  it  is  not  material  [>ros- 
perity  alone  that  actuates  them  in  helping  hither  oix' 
class  of  workers  while  repelling  another  and  In  tter 
class.  Is  it  pliilanthropy,  then,  that  broad  benevolend 
which  would  bring  in  all  the  world  to  enjoy  our  liher- 
ties  and  our  lands?  It  must  be  sometliing  of  thi-^ 
kind.     We  seem  to  be  suffering  for  amalgauinlion  ot 


THE  VOTING-MACHINE. 


243 


linaliJjauiivtiou  *' 


some  sort ;  we  have  no  desire  to  join  hearts  and  minds 

with  those  of  the  steam-engine,  the  mule,  or  the  Mon- 

yoliuii,  and  through  union  with  these  agencies  liand 

down    to    posterity   our   time-honored    institutions. 

Why  not?     We  might  do  worse.     We  liave  done  and 

are  doing  worse.     While  one   part  of  the  common- 

\\\  ilth  has  hugged  to  its  bosom  the  black  African, 

wlio  is  not  half  so  white  as  the  half-white  Mongolian, 

tlio  other  portion  has  been  inviting  equally  objcction- 

ahli!   elements   from  the   east.     We  have  made  our 

iiiiistcr   the    low    European,    who    has    befouled  our 

jxiHlics  and  demoralized  the  nation  more  than  all  the 

Mongolians  or  steam-engines  therein.     The  cess-pools 

(if  luirope,  which  in  the  name  of  immigration  wo  have 

hcen  draining  into  our  cities  for  the  last  centur}^  have 

liiially  raised    sucli  a  moral   and    political  stench  as 

should  fully  satisfy  all  lovers  of  America  and  haters 

of  Asia.     Nol     No  Mongolian   amalgamation    after 

this !     Rather  let  celestials  sit  here  quietly  and  smoke 

all  the  opium  forced  by  England  on  China  than  make 

iiioro  American  citizens  of  the  world's  refuse  humanity! 

LoaviniJt    out  our  wortliv  colored  citi>:ens  as  not 

worth  discussion,  the  comparison  narrows  to  the  good 

and  i)ad  qualities  of  low  Asiatics  and  low  Europeans; 

for  the  inHowing  of  one  or  the  other  of  those  claK'scs 

may  serif)usly  affect    the   future  well-being  and  nd- 

vaiu'cincnit    of  these    United    States.     The   question 

aftrr  all  has  so  far  been,  not  which,  if  either,  is  the 

l)etter  or  worse,  but  wherein  lies  expediency  ?     Ti.is 

is  the  aspect  with    our  governors,    legislators,    and 

ju(l'j;('s,  likewise  our  demagogues  and  all  who  pander 

to  Selfish  interests.     Yet  this  is  carefully  kept  in  the 

ha(k;.>;round,  and  sound  argunients  aro  seldom  touched. 

In  our  government,  the  right  of  suffrage  makes  the 

man  ;  it  docs  not  matter  if  it  be  a  lamp-post,  or  a  sack 

'»f  hran,  if  it  votes  it  is  as  good  an  American  citizen, 

so  far  as  this  great  prerogative  is  concerned,  as  Daniel 

Wchster  or  Abraham   Lincoln.     It  is  fortunate  we 

have  so  niany  citizens  already  made,  so  much  is  de- 


244 


TWO  SIIJKS  OF  A   VRXKD  QUESTION, 


pciidont  ui)on  thorn.  Could  the  Chinaman  vote,  tli^  iv 
would  be  no  Ciiinese  question;  could  the  Euroin  an 
not  vote,  there  would  be  no  Chinese  question. 

It  is  sDuiewhat  remarkable  that  our  Into  im- 
ported brethren  from  Europe  could  in  so  short  a 
time  after  coming  to  America,  not  only  snugly  cstali- 
lish  themselves  as  American  citizens,  and  gain  po.sst  s- 
sion  of  so  large  a  part  of  the  government,  but  couM 
set  the  people  at  large  barking  against  Ciiina,  in  t 
only  the  ne\vspai)ers  and  politicians,  but  all  who  read 
the  newspapers  and  listen  to  the  politicians.  Tlo 
politician  readily  perceives  that  by  curshig  China  In 
obtains  votes,  and  the  editor  in  like  manner  scds 
readers.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  there  is  not  a  siii'^ltj 
public  journal  or  politician  on  the  Pacific  coast  to-day, 
our  worthy  regulators  from  P]uro[)e  being  prcsint, 
that  dare  come  out  and  speak  in  favor  of  the  Chuu^f. 
It  is  remarkable,  I  say,  such  unanimity  of  opinion, 
and  that  too  where  in  far  more  trilling  matters  it  is 
the  custom  for  these  champions  of  free  thouglit  and 
progressive  civilization  to  take  sides  and  fight,  doiiii; 
it  upon  principle,  and  because  in  fighting  is  the  gicai- 
cst  gain.  Our  masters  from  Europe  are  deserving  df 
groat  credit  in  converting  so  thoroughly  and  universally 
our  foremost  men,  opinion-makers,  society-regulati'is. 
preachers,  teachers,  and  whiskey-sellers.  Sucli  is  t!  !• 
power  of  the  ballot  in  this  conunonwealth,  niakiii;4' 
meal-bags  of  men  and  men  of  meal-bags,  and  graiitiiiLi 
to  all,  with  wonderful  clearness,  to  discern  the  path 
wherein  their  true  interest  lies  1 

At  the  bejrinninij:  of  the  jrreat  influx  into  Calilniiiia 
the  American  miner  prepared  with  knife  and  pistnl  to 
pronnilgate  the  doctrine  of  exclusion  against  all  forciu'.i- 
ers.  Teutons  and  Celts  escaped  with  a  growl,  wliilo 
the  persecution  fell  heavily  on  Spanish-Americans 
and  others  whose  hue  stamped  them  conspicuously  as 
aliens.  They  accordingly  moved  away  by  the  tli'iii- 
sands,  leaving  the  more  tenacious  Mongolian  to  I'lar 
the  brunt.     As  the   gold  placers  were  skimni(<l  of 


ASIA   AND  KUIiOrK. 


84B 


id  figlit,  dolii.; 


Icern  tho  patli 


tli(  ir  surface  attraction  the  American  turned  to  nioro 
jnolitiible  pursuits,  and  liis  wrath  cooling',  niadi;  Irsa 
nli)((tif)n  to  forcij^ners  taking  a  sliaro  in  tlu;  scrajMnns. 
I!\(  n  tiic  Chinaman  obtained  rcs[)ite  awhile,  and  was 
]i.iinitted  to  serve  in  humble  capacity  in  the  new  in- 
dustries unfolded.  Stumbling  here  against  the  low 
l!un»|»('an,  the  je'alousy  of  the  latter  revived  the 
biaouldering  persecution. 

l)Ut  aside  from  all  this,  and  placing  the  low  Euro- 
|i(;iii  and  Chinaman  under  analysis,  what  do  we  see? 

Little  to  choose  between  them.  Neither  are  very 
(•oiikIv,  nor  very  clean.  John  boasts  a  few  thousand 
y<ars  more  of  nationality  than  the  European,  but  the 
hitter  lias  made  the  better  progress.  One  shave's  the 
In  ;i(l  and  braids  the  hair  too  much,  the  other  too  lit- 
tli'.  One  has  oblique  eyes,  the  other  an  oi)h(]ue 
mouth;  one  smokes  opium  and  drinks  tea,  the  other 
SDK  ikes  tobacco  and  drinks  whiskey;  one  is  a  jteniten- 
ti.iiT  I  milder  and  police  courtier,  the  otiier  a  high- 
linnlcr  and  bone-shi{>per;  and  finally,  one  swears  in 
(iiie  laniruaije  and  the  otlier  in  another. 

As  regards  relative  enlightenment  and  debasement, 
that  depends  on  ideas  and  standards.  Asia  was  cul- 
tured while  Europe  was  yet  barbaric.  There  are  few 
Asiatics  in  America  who  cannot  read  and  write  to 
-inie  extent.  To  all  appearances  tlieir  intellect  is  as 
lui^lit  as  that  of  the  Europeans,  both  being  far  above 
that  (if  the  African.  The  Chinese  cpiarter  in  Sari 
Francisco  is  more  filthy  than  other  parts  of  the  city, 
and  the  low  Europeans  do  not  so  herd  here;  but  in 
Now  York  and  London  the  low  European  quarter 
fir  exceeds  in  fever-breeding  foulness  any  thing  in 
("alifornia.  The  Chinese  are  not  always  and  alto- 
!;'ether  neat  in  person,  orderly,  docile,  economical,  in- 
dustrious, tractable,  and  reliable,  but  they  are  more 
^')  than  any  other  working  class  in  America.  The 
!"\v  Luropeans  are  not  always  and  altc^gethcr  turbu- 
it'Ut,  lault-iiuding,  politically  intermeddling,  drunken, 


t<  li 


'li!,'"' 


f    ! 


9M 


'HVO  SIDES  OK   A   VEXED  QUESTION. 


quarrelsome,  brutal,  blaspheming,  but  they  are  iiKiri' 
so  than  any  other  working  class  in  America.  Tlic 
Chinese  have  some  prostitutes,  but  they  are  mostly 
patronized  by  white  men,  who  themselves  have  ten 
to  the  celestial's  one. 

All  the  world  is  bidding  against  us  in  the  labor  niiirt, 
offering  work  and  its  ecpiivalent  at  far  lower  ratis 
than  are  ruling  here.  Professor  Levi  shows  that  in 
1874  the  common  laborer  received  in  England  )?-■_'  ;i 
month;  in  Scotland  $20;  in  Ireland  $14;  on  the 
continent  of  Europe  $10;  in  Russia  $0;  and  in  Cliiiia 
$3.  How  can  we  ex[tcct  to  develop  our  resources  on 
a  large  scale,  when  others  are  offering  the  products  of 
labor  at  prices  so  much  lower,  and  are  growing  ncli 
tliereby  ?  Yet  we  are  told  not  to  avail  ourselves  lure 
in  California  of  the  low  wages  in  China. 

There  are  many  objections  to  the  Chinese  and 
cheap  labor,  for  both,  while  conferring  benefits, enf.iil 
great  curses.  They  make  the  poor  poorer  and  tlu^ 
rich  richer.  ^lany  producers  and  few  consiumi- 
make  a  dull  market.  Better  restrain  industrid  an, 
bition  within  prudent  bounds  and  let  our  own  *  n- 
dren  do  the  work,  and  let  all  foreigners  stay  at  lionic 
We  cannot  christianize  these  leathery  Asiatics;  tlic 
other  foreigners  are  too  Christian.  There  are  advan- 
tages in  spending  as  well  as  in  saving. 

If  we  want  our  cities  quickly  enlarged,  1  .lO.OOO 
European  laborers  imply  000,000  inhabitants,  on  the 
hasis  of  four  to  a  family,  with  homes,  schools,  tcniclicrs. 
books,  papers,  churches,  theatres,  manufactories,  aiti- 
zans,  traders,  and  professionals;  150,000  Chiiiaindi 
signify  merely  that  number  of  ignorant  d*  l)ascd 
machine  laborers,  with  very  few  of  the  elevating  ad- 
juncts of  culture  upon  which  to  spend  their  eainin'j,s. 
Moreover,  the  earnings  of  the  latter  do  not  remain 
in  the  country,  but  are  forwarded  to  China,  at  the 
rate  of  several  millions  of  dollars  a  .year,  thus  caii^inij; 
an  incessant  drain  on  our  resources,  and  that  to  a 


ON. 


nilNESK  COM riTITION. 


247 


ihcv  are  ni<»rn 

•         'PI 
Lincriea.      llu; 

oy  an;   inosllv 

Ivcs  havr  t<  II 

:lic  labor  iiiait, 
ir  lower  rats 
sliows  that  ill 
']M;j,laiid  !?-■-  ii 
$14;  oil  tho 
;  and  in  Cliliiii 
ir  rosourct'S  (Hi 
blio  produc'fs  of 
)  growing  i <(li 
ourselves  licn^ 

1. 

)  Chinese  and 
I  benefits, eiif.'iil 
loorer  and  the 
few    consul  I  ;ir-^ 

industiT'l  an. 

our  own  *  li- 
8  stay  at  lutiiic. 
Asiatics;  the 
lerc  are  advan- 

xrs^ed,  1.^0,000 
oitants,  on  tlu' 
lools,  t(uu'lu'rs 
ufactories,  arti- 
000  Cliiiiaiiu'U 
orant    debased 

elevatinu'  ad- 
their  earnings. 
.lo  not  remain 

China,  at  tlu' 
r,  thus  (■aii>iii,i; 
and  that  to  ii 


country  whioli  takes  i)ut  little  of  our  exports,  and  sends 
us  in  return  the  stapU;  articles  of  food  consumed  by 
the  Chiiiumen  on  t)nr  coast.  It  were  surely  l)etter 
that  C)iir  cities  should  not  be  too  raj)idly  eidai'ged, 
nwv  inamiractiires  increased,  and  our  lands  cultivated 
under  sii(di  advei'sc  conditions. 

Chinamen  intrude  on  oui'  trade  oflTerinj^'  to  work  for 
niontlis  without  pay;  but  having  learned  the  art,  or 
stolen  the  inventions  that  have  cost  years  of  toil,  they 
t!nii  upon  tlie  over-reaching  employer,  reduce  him  to 
liaukruptcy  by  c()mi)etition  and  cheap  imitations,  cast 
thr  white  workmen  into  the  stret^t,  and  force  the  ap- 
printices  into  hoodlumism.  The  white  man  nuist 
suhsist,  but  he  is  obliged  to  compete  with  these  cattle, 
and  consequently  to  live  as  meanly,  feed  as  cheaply, 
and  leave  Ids  family  in  a  like  condition.  •  And  society 
will  brand  him  a  worthless  fellow,  and  treat  him  ac- 
cordingly if  he  fails  to  house  and  clothe  the  family  in 
accordance  with  its  rules  of  decency,  or  if  he  allows* 
his  children  to  grow  u[)  in  ignorance  and  vice.  Here- 
in lies  the  root  of  the  evil.  The  Chhiaman  by  neg- 
lecting to  conform  to  our  standard  of  life,  undermines 
our  civilization  and  infringes  on  our  social  and  political 
laws.  Other  foreigners,  of  more  cognate  and  sympa- 
tlu  tic  races,  learn  to  conform  to  our  customs,  if  only 
bv  assunung  the  duties  of  marriaixc. 

J^eliold  the  effect  of  debasing  competition  on  the 
wliite  jiopulation  of  the  southern  states,  where  a  few 
grew  wealthy  at  the  expense  of  the  community.  The 
class  known  as  "low  whites"  was  onci>  composed  of 
liainy  fimdly  men  and  prosperous  farmers,  like  those 
who  make  this  occupation  so  honorable  and  wealth- 
creating  in  the  northern  states.  The  negro  came,  a 
cheap  competitor.  Labor  was  degrading.  The  mas- 
ter who  formerly  worked  would  no  longer  mingle  at 
the  task  with  the  slave,  to  whom  labor  was  now  dele- 
gated. He  grew  rich  and  began  to  ignore  his  neigh- 
bor, his  former  equal,  whose  larger  fanuly,  or  smaller 
estate,  forbade  the  hire  or  purchase  of  a  negro,  and 


248 


TWO  SIDES  OP  A  VEXED  QUESTION. 


Ill     i 


obliged  him  to  cling  to  labor,  now  already  branded  as 
slavery  Negro  competition  reduced  the  poor  man's 
income  until  he  could  no  longer  afford  comforts,  bare  ly 
necessaries,  or  education  for  his  children.  Bred  under 
such  circumstances  the  son  remained  ignorant,  grew 
coarse,  fell  lower  in  the  social  scale,  and  was  despistil 
even  by  the  negro,  who  fed  well  while  he  starv(  d. 
The  "white  trash"  still  remain  in  the  position 
to  which  they  were  thus  forced ;  for  although  tlie 
negro  is  now  free,  and  his  labor  the  labor  of  the  free 
man,  yet  it  still  bears  the  stigma  of  the  lower  race. 

The  effect  of  prcjgressive  civilization  has  been  to 
exalt, labor.  Not  long  since  the  merchant  was  re- 
garded as  a  contemptible  usurer,  the  chaplain  and 
scribe  as  menials,  the  artisan  and  laborer  as  serfs,  and 
as  such  they  lived  meanly.  Every  advance  in  culture 
has  tended  to  increase  wages,  and  to  raise  the  classes 
to  greater  equality.  The  merchant  is  now  among  the 
foremost  in  the  land,  the  chaplain,  the  writer,  are 
prominent  members  of  society,  artisans  and  laborers 
share  with  others  their  comforts,  luxuries,  and  insti- 
tutions, and  are  prepared  to  contribute  their  quota  to 
sustain  a  civilization  fraught  with  such  blcssinu;s. 
Shall  we,  by  receiving  another  low  race,  repeat  the 
negro  plague,  and  nullify  these  years  of  progress  ? 
The  Chinese  threaten  to  become  even  worse  than  the 
negroes,  for  they  have  stronger  if  not  baser  passions; 
they  livi  more  meanly,  and  have  no  family  orinton  st 
in  the  country.  Our  boys  are  growing  up  and  need 
a  trade.  The  welfare  of  the  comnmnity  demands  as 
strongly  that  this  opportunit}'  shall  be  given  them,  as 
it  demands  that  childnui  shall  be  trained  in  morals 
and  given  a  common-school  education. 

In  building  up  industries  by  means  of  a  low  race, 
wo  establish  them  on  an  insecure  footing,  since  an 
alien  people  without  family  ties,  and  without  desire  to 
remain,  cannot  become  skilful  enough  to  compete  witli 
the  finished  products  of  more  hitelligent  races,  nor 
furnish  *hc  inventive  spirit  by  which  they  shall  pro- 


ANTI-CHINESE  VIEW. 


219 


gross.  One  cheap  industry  demands  another,  based 
oil  similar  labor;  one  branch  drags  down  the  others. 
Imbued  with  our  spirit,  the  youth  objects  to  mingle 
^villl  the  class  whose  degradation  pollutes  every  in- 
dustry. Hoodlumism  and  disorder  are  the  result, 
leading  to  national  dcterioriation. 

A  struggle  of  races  might  ensue,  resulting  not  in 
tlio  survival  of  the  fittest,  but  of  numbers ;  for  while 
the  white  man  surpasses  the  Chinaman  and  negro  in 
reasoning  and  invention  they  can  outstrip  hhn  at  lower 
work  and  overwhelm  him  by  numbers.  The  Roman 
ciii[)ire  sank  with  its  culture  before  barbaric  invasions 
into  the  dismal  slough  of  the  middle  ages.  The  vigor 
and  intellect  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  cannot  be  sustained 
on  a  handful  of  rice.  Blood  intermixture  is  no  loss 
repugnant  to  the  American  mind  than  to  the  Asiatic, 
liut  slumld  it  ever  come  to  pass,  a  mongrel  race  would 
bo  the  consequence.  The  mulatto  and  the  mestizo  are 
un([uestic)nably  inferior  to  almost  any  unadulterated  peo- 
ple. The  mixed  races  of  IMexico  are  probably  the 
finest  specimens  of  a  hybrid  })opulation  on  the  globe. 
Yet  how  inferior  in  enterprise,  in  originality,  in  pru- 
dence, in  ability,  to  the  Spanish  ancestor,  or  in  many 
respects  even  to  the  native  Aztec.  Social  and  politi- 
cal anarchy  and  intellectual  stagnation  have  over- 
spread the  land ;  the  spirit  of  progress  has  never  truly 
oveis|)i'oad  the  land. 

Wiij^es  will  adjust  themselves,  and  monopoly  disap- 
pear. Limited  prostitution  is  considered  necessary  to 
cluck  yet  darkt'r  crime;  but  general  immorality  is 
destructive.  If  Chinese,  mules,  or  steam-engines  are 
needed  in  certain  industries,  cin[)loy  them,  but  with 
due  precaution,  within  the  reasonable  limits  of  a  pro- 
tective taritf  which  aims  to  foster  the  best  uiterests 
of  tlu;  nation.     So  argue  many. 

Whatrvcir  nhiy  be  said  for  find  against  the  presence 
of  tlir  Chinese  among  us,  it  is  but  fair  to  state  thr.t 
the  evil  has  been  greatly  exaggerated.     The  question 


250 


•nvO  SIDES  OP  A  VEXED  QUESTION. 


Wf] 


'■.I''.:) 


li  ij. 

1  ■[ 


is  not  treated  with  that  judicial  fairness  which  it  de- 
mands; and  it  never  has  been.  He  who  finds  the 
Asiatic  beneficial  is  blind  to  the  evils  he  brings  upon 
otliers ;  and  he  who  suffers  from  his  presence  sees  no 
good  in  him.  The  dark  picture  in  the  preceding  paujts 
applies  only  to  continued  immigration.  So  for  tlio 
benefits  received  from  the  Chinese  influx,  in  laying 
tlie  foundation  for  many  indispensable  industries,  sucli 
as  vineyards,  irrigation  canals,  and  the  overland  rail- 
way, probably  balance  the  evil  inflicted  in  other 
directions. 

But  by  those  whose  occupation  it  is  to  pander  to  tlio 
prejudices  of  the  people  ;  by  politicians,  by  legislators, 
by  our  governors,  our  representatives  in  congress,  and 
especially  by  our  printed  exponents  of  public  opinion, 
more  than  by  those  directly  benefited  or  injured  by 
the  Mongolian  immigration,  are  multitudinous  warped 
facts  and  false  statements  brouj'ht  forth. 

It  is  not  the  better  class  of  laborers  who  most  ob- 
ject to  the  presence  of  the  Chinese.  Good  men,  capa- 
ble and  willing,  can  always  find  work,  if  not  in  the 
city  then  in  the  country.  There  are  no  Chinese 
among  tho  tramps  that  infest  the  country,  begi^ing, 
stealing,  and  burning.  It  is  the  idler  and  vagabond, 
who  want  two  days'  pay  for  one  day's  labor,  wlio 
clamor  loudly  and  get  drunk  regularly  at  elections ; 
tliese,  and  women  who  will  not  work  at  all  unless 
everything  exactly  suits  them,  and  will  not  go  on  to 
the  farm  scarcely  at  any  j)rice ;  these  are  the  troul»lo- 
makers.  California  is  the  tranip's  paradise.  In  a 
land  of  freedom  he  is  of  all  men  most  free,  being 
bound  neither  by  money,  society,  religion,  hone>t\-. 
nor  decency.  He  is  not  forced  by  a  rigorous  eliniato 
into  the  settled  habits  required  to  secure  heavy 
clothinf*-  and  warm  shelter.  A  blanket  in  a  barn  sut- 
fices  throughout  the  year,  and  a  little  work  hero  and 
there  secures  food. 

Much  is  said  against  peopling  America  from  nalions 
not  cognate  in  thought,  religion,  and  language.     W  by 


BASE  INTEllMIXTURES. 


S51 


•om  nalii>ns 


was  this  not  thouglit  of  when  we  admitted  infidel 
l^]uropeans  or  Africans.  True,  these  may  assimilate 
ill  duo  time,  whereas  the  Chinese  never  can.  But 
assimilation  with  a  bad  element  is  demoralization  for 
tho  mass,  which  is  certainly  worse  than  no  assimila- 
tion. 

We  rail  against  the  Chinaman  for  lowering  the 
tone  of  our  morality.  Yet  for  one  of  his  hidden  cypri- 
a'l-  we  have  a  score  brazenly  trailing  their  sliirts 
aniono;  us.  For  one  of  his  opium  dons  we  boast 
wliiskey-shops  innumerable,  spreading  their  curse  over 
ini[)overished  households,  ruined  constitutions,  and 
dohased  minds,  into  future  generations.  And  more  ; 
Cliina  long  since  sought  to  suppress  the  opium  evil, 
but  was  forced  at  the  mouth  of  Anglo-Saxon  cannon  to 
stay  tlie  reform. 

And  now  again  in  1878  an  imperial  edict  goes  forth 
proliibiting  the  cultivation  of  the  poppy.  Behold 
Cliina  struggling  with  her  great  curse!  Behold 
civilized  Christian  nations  lending  their  aid  to  the  de- 
vouring drug,  and  then  throwing  it  in  tho  teeth  of 
tlic  Chinese  that  they  are  debased  by  it,  and  making 
of  it  a  pretext  for  doing  them  yet  greater  injury  1 

As  for  their  filth,  slums,  and  disorder,  as  bad  exist 
in  most  large  towns.  Their  pagan  ceremonies,  their 
predilection  for  gambling  and  other  weakness,  do  less 
liiirin  than  many  of  our  spurious  sectarianisms,  our 
oprii  races  and  j)ools,  our  veiled  lotteries  and  games, 
our  prurient  books  and  cartoons.  Let  us  cleanse  our 
own  skirts  somewhat  before  we  declaim  so  loudly  up- 
on the  contaminating  influence  of  these  heatli(>n. 

Some  couple  with  this  line  of  com[)laint  the  argu- 
nu'iit  that  tlie  family  is  the  center  and  ideal  of  our 
institutions,  that  all  our  refinenunt  revolves  round  its 
lialldwed  altar;  and  because  tlr^  Chinese  do  not  estab- 
llsli  taniilics  among  us- -which,  by  the  way,  is  not 
true— their  presence  is  hurtful. 

Others  declaim  asjainst  them  for  not  assimilatinj?, 
for  not  marrvint;  our  daughters,  forsooth.     Do  we 


2S2 


TWO  SIDES  OF  A  VEXED  QUESTION. 


u,  I 


wish  them  to  do  so  ?  The  objectiou  that  they  do  not 
come  with  their  lares  and  penates  as  immigrants 
seeking  permanent  homes  should  be  put  to  their 
credit,  for  assuredly  we  do  not  covet  more  foreign 
ditch-water  to  be  absorbed  into  our  veins.  They 
keep  out  other  immigration,  it  is  said;  this  is  by  no 
mean:;  lui  unmixed  evil,  I  would  reply. 

AVe  hear  nmch  said  about  the  degradation  of  labor. 
Our  wives  and  daugl iters  are  degratk^d  by  working  in 
the  kitchen  with  black  or  yellow  wenches;  our  luiod- 
lums  are  degraded  by  working  in  tlie  fields  and  factories 
beside  j-ellow  and  black  men.  ,  But  what  shall  we  say 
as  to  the  degradation  of  our  politics,  our  free  and 
noble  institutions  ?  In  places  where  women  vote,  you 
may  see  the  first  man  and  matron  of  the  connnon- 
wealth,  a  statesman  and  his  wife  for  example,  a  man 
of  means,  having  large  interests  in  the  community 
and  a  woman  of  culture,  drive  up  to  the  polls  and 
take  their  places  beside  a  shock-headed  greasy 
negro,  and  a;,  illiterate  foul-mouthed  European,  and 
so  make  their  election,  the  vote  of  one  of  tliese 
American  citizens  being  no  whit  better  or  worse  than 
that  of  another.  So  with  the  thieves  in  our  prisons 
it  is  de\grading  to  associate,  but  witji  our  monopoliz- 
ing and  office-holding  thieves  we  wine  and  dine  with 
great  gusto.  With  such  rank  rottenness  in  social, 
j)olitical,  and  commerrial  quarters,  it  seems  twaddle 
to  talk  of  the  degradation  of  labor. 

The  quiet  Chinese  arc  by  no  means  the  worst  class 
adn'itted,  if  restricted  in  number.  All  arguments 
tending  to  show  the  unfitness  of  the  Asiatic  to  l»e 
entrusted  with  the  ballot,  such  as  the  absence  of  any 
knowledge  of  our  institutions,  the  lack  of  responsihil- 
ity  or  interest  in  them,  the  certainty  that  their  vote 
would  be  bouglit  with  money,  and  the  like,  apply 
with  equal  force  to  the  low  European  and  the  Afriean. 
It  is  ]')ure  political  pretence,  and  tiie  argument  ollered 
in  that  direction  verbiage,  to  say  that  the  ballot  can- 
not be   confided  to  the  Asiatic  as  well   as  to  the 


OUR  DEBASED  COVERNMEXT. 


253 


African.  The  average  Chinaman  is  far  brighter, 
mote  iutenigent,  more  energetic  than  the  negro;  but 
110  lover  of  his  country  desires  by  any  means  to  see 
either  of  them  ruling  the  destinies  of  this  nation  at 
the  polls.  Are  we  not  governed  to-day  by  the  low- 
est, basest  clement  of  our  commonwealth  ;  by  machine 
voti  rs  under  the  control  of  politicians;  by  units  under 
the  sway  of  bosses  and  monopolists ;  by  a  majority 
of  all  the  people  without  regard  to  qualification  of 
any  kind?  How  long  shall  our  pure  democracy,  our 
pure  liberty,  our  pure  license  last !  As  the  Chinese 
will  neither  amalgamate  with  us  nor  accept  the 
electoral  franchise  at  our  hands,  the  less  can  they 
dran;-   us   down,  the   less   damaj-ing  their  intluence 


upon  us, 


Unjust  discrimination  is  marked.  From  the  first 
occupation  of  California  by  Anglo-Americans,  men 
of  every  nation  were  permitted  to  gather  gold  and 
carry  it  away.  Thousands  of  English  and  Scotch, 
Fronch,  Dutch, and  Spanish  came  and  went,  leaving 
no  bk'ssing.  And  yet  they  were  never  greatly  blamed. 
Many  of  our  wealthy  and  respectable  people  spend 
more  in  useless  extravagance  abroad  than  in  beaut  i- 
tying  or  benefiting  Californi?'.  IMany  of  our  rich 
men  have  carried  off  millions,  and  spent  largely  and 
invested  largely  at  the  east  and  in  Europe,  and  yet 
no  one  ever  questioned  their  right.  Money  tricked 
from  the  people  by  political  knaves  and  stock  gani- 
Mtrs  who  never  added  a  dollar  to  the  wealth  of 
California  in  their  lives,  may  be  lavishly  emptied 
into  th(^  lap  of  pleasure  abroad  and  no  thought 
of  complaint;  but  l(>t  the  niiscablo  Mongolian  carry 
iieiK^e  liis  hard-earned  pittance,  and  what  a  cry  is 
raised! 

Fuither:  that  the  Cliinese  spend  so  very  much 
less  of  their  wages  than  the  Eurojwan  laborer  is  not 
correct.  They  patronize  less  the  whiskey-shoi^s,  those 
bulwarks  of  American  denmgogism,  it  is  true;  but 
they  buy  flour,  cloth  ir.;^',  rhcu-s,  dry -goods,  groceries, 


1*. 

.j 


fM 


TWO  SIDES  OF  A  VEXED  QUESTION. 


meat,  fruit,  and  many  other  articles,  and  tlicy  are 
great  patrons  of  boats,  staj^es,  and  railways.  Tlioy 
pay  their  government  dues,  poll  tax,  and  property 
tax,  equally  with  those  who  are  so  eager  to  drive  tlieiii 
out.  With  all  the  complaint  of  starving  laborers 
seeking  employment  in  our  cities,  it  is  a  quest  ion 
if  our  average  crops  could  be  harvested  without 
Chinamen ;  and  many  a  farmer's  wife  is  saved  a 
life  of  drudgery  by  John's  ever-ready  assistance 
There  are  a  number  <jf  industries,  particularly  manu- 
faeturing,  which  provide  employment  also  for  white 
men,  but  could  not  be  sustained  without  the  aid  of 
cheap  and  reliable  Clnnese  labor.  Their  suspension 
would  throw  out  of  work  not  alone  the  men  (on- 
nected  therewith,  but  cut  off  a  series  of  dependent 
industries. 

If  there  is  any  difference,  the  Chinese  have  greater 
cause  of  com[)laint  from  the  unwelcome  interferenci 
of  Europeans  in  their  system,  than  Europeans  havo  (f 
the  baneful  influence  of  the  Clihiese  upon  thilr  pros- 
pects in  America.  By  force  of  arms  Europeans  enttr 
China;  by  general  invitation,  and  under  treaty  si i]  il- 
lations, the  Cliinese  come  to  America.  Ft)r(  in;^ 
themselves  upon  the  Chinese,  the  Europeans  estal - 
lished  ])laces  of  business,  ind  began  tradhig  witli  tlio 
interior,  greatly  to  the  damage  of  native  mercliants, 
who,  as  they  expressed  it,  "suffered  fire  and  wat<  r." 
therebv.  Hateful  foreigners  put  steamers  on  their 
rivers,  to  the  utter  annihilation  of  fleets  of  native 
craft,  thus  reducing  to  starvation  hosts  of  pilots, 
sailors,  and  laborers.  Within  a  few  years  thirty  for- 
eign steamers  were  placed  upt)n  the  Yang-tse-lxIauLi: 
river  ah)ne,  to  the  displacement  of  30,000  wn.;(- 
earners.  And  so  it  was  with  every  material  iniprovi  - 
ment  Europeans  sought  to  thrust  upon  tlieni. 
Telegraj)hs and  railways  would  deprive  of  employuu tit 
thousands  of  worthy  men,  with  wives  and  cliildrcn 
depending  on  them  for  food.  The  mechanical  con- 
trivances are  the  cheap-labor  curse  brought  by  for- 


AMERICA  IN  CHINA. 


256 


oijtncrs  upon  China.     And   liavc  they  not  as  much 
Ciiusc  to  complain  of  our  inroads  as  wc  of  theirs? 

Tlie  United  States  are  reaping  their  si lare  from  this 
invasion  and  longinu^  for  more.  When  California  f(>ll 
iuii)  the  la[)  of  the  union,  China  was  sending  away  in 
l'jur<)i)ean  vessels  alone  one  hundred  millions  of  dollars 
woitli  of  teas,  sugar,  silks,  o[)ium,  and  other  articles. 
Ill  the  same  quarter  looms  the  commerce  of  India, 
whicli,  since  the  days  of  the  Pharaohs,  has  enriched 
tlic  eini)oriums  of  Egypt  and  of  the  shores  of  the 
Mediterranean  ;  also  the  important  trade  of  Siam, 
Corea,  and  Japan,  with  America  and  Europe.  Nature 
lias  given  California  the  advantage  over  all  the  world 
iu  securing  and  centralizing  the  world's  trade  with 
China  and  Japan.  Here  may  be  gathered  the  rich 
piuducts  of  eastern  Asia,  and  hence  distributed,  passed 
on  eastward  over  the  continent  by  means  of  competing 
lines  of  railways,  and  over  the  Atlantic  to  Europe. 
California  is  the  natural  entrepot  and  distributing 
point  of  this  valuable  traffic. 

Tliere  is  much  to  learn  as  well  as  gain  in  Asia. 
America  may  take  lessons  from  this  wrinkled  and 
tootliless  grandame  of  civilization.  The  dusky,  almond- 
ey((i  sons  of  the  primordial  east,  who  reckon  their 
ancestry  by  scores  of  centuries,  whose  government  and 
institutions  were  ages  oUl  before  Mohammed,  Cjesar, 
oi' Christ,  regard  with  not  unreasonable  contempt  the 
upstart  Yankee,  with  his  European  and  Afiican  mas- 
ters, his  inconsistencies  of  freedom,  and  his  pretty 
new  republican  plaything.  In  some  things  we  are 
t'oiiteinj)tible,  even  in  the  eyes  of  a  heathen.  Pro- 
l'e>siiig  Christ,  we  play  the  »levil.  Swearing  by  CiJod, 
we  kneel  before  Satan.  We  talk  nuuh  of  justice 
— indeed,  we  have  plenty;  we  buy  it  as  recpiind. 
We  huild  an  altar  of  equal  rights,  honesty,  and  patri- 
otism, and  sacrifice  upon  it  offerings  of  hollow  mockery, 
(leeminj;  a  lie  with  IcLjalitv  better  than  a  lamb,  and 
brilterv  better  than  the  fat  of  rams.  At  the  siulit  of 
our  [jolitical  high  priests,  Confucius   himself  might 


2r)() 


TWO  SIDES  OF  A  VEXED  QUESTION. 


liil 


W'm 


!  !  : 


:>  i 


Ijpli'i 


well  arise,  make  of  the  divine  drug  bread,  and  shave 
anew  his  people. 

There  are  unquestionable  evils  attending  the  prc^s- 
ence  in  a  free  government  of  a  non-assimilative  riicc! 
to  which  the  electorial  franchise  may  not  be  8af(  ly 
confided,  and  I  heartily  agree  with  those  who  arii,uo 
that  because  we  have  made  one  mistake  in  adopt iiiL( 
Africa,  it  is  no  reason  why  we  should  make  andtlicr 
and  adopt  Asia.  We  do  not  want  the  low  Asiatics 
for  our  rulers;  we  do  not  want  them  as  citizens.  Like 
the  low  European  and  the  low  African  they  are  our 
inferiors.  The  tone  of  our  intelligence,  of  our  politics, 
of  our  morality,  is  lowered  by  associating  with  tlicni 
on  terms  of  intellectual,  moral,  and  political  equality. 
As  human  beings,  with  human  rights,  all  nun  are 
equal.  The  riglit  to  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of 
hapi)incss  is  the  same  to  all,  though  all  do  not  make 
the  same  benefi'^'ial  use  of  that  right,  and  in  so  far  as 
they  fail  in  this  they  are  not  the  equal  of  those  wlio 
do  not  fail. 

There  are  some  advantages  and  some  disadvantages 
in  non-assimilation.  There  can  be  no  question  tliat 
the  low  Europeans  have  been  a  greater  curse;  to 
America  than  the  Asiatic  and  the  African  conil)in(  rl. 
The  electoral  franchise  which  we  have  so  freely  given 
them  has  pluralized  their  power  for  evil.  Had  ilioy 
never  been  permitted  to  vote,  our  politics  had  never 
been  so  prostituted.  Citizenship  would  tlien  have 
been  a  thing  Americans  might  have  been  [»rou(l  of. 
Much  corruption  and  many  disgraceful  riots  would 
have  been  avoided,  and  more  than  all,  we  should  not 
to-day  be  threatened  with  revolution  and  disriqitinii 
by  reason  t)f  our  abased  liberties.  Because  they  can 
assimilate,  because  they  can  become  blood  of  <iur 
blood  ami  bone  of  our  Ixme,  they  are  the  subtle  poison 
in  the  vehis  of  our  institutions  to-dav.  These  aliens. 
while  crying  against  the  grindings  of  monopoh>ts  m 
railwavs  and  manufactures,   would  establish  in  our 


m 


s;1 


ABASEMENT  OF  AMERICA. 


SS7 


aU 


midst  a  monopoly  of  labor,  and  force  us  to  cniplo 
them  at   their   own   price.     They  would  ignore 
rights  in  the  premises  save  those  conforming  to  their 
interests  and  prejudices. 

It  is  assumed  by  many  that  it  is  our  duty  not  only 
to  provide  with  remunerative  employment  all  those 
who  have  come  or  who  may  come  from  Europe  and 
from  Africa,  but  that  we  are  in  duty  bound  to  keep 
back  those  who  would  come  from  Asia  lest  they 
should  interfere  with  the  others.  This  has  been  the 
tentleMcy  of  all  our  legislation,  a  protective  tariff  upon 
labor,  discriminating  in  favor  of  the  European  and 
African,  and  against  the  Asiatic.  I  see  no  reason 
why  wo  should  provide  for  any  of  them. 

The  claim  advanced  by  low  Europeans  is  somewhat 
audacious.  They  must  be  paid  double  the  wages  of 
Asiatics,  and  be  fed  while  the  latter  may  starve;  and 
what  is  most  remarkable,  they  have  their  way.  They 
have  the  whip-hand  of  California,  the  whip-hand  of 
poUticians  and  people,  and  make  us  do  as  they  will. 
They  form  into  endless  labor  leagues,  say  "boo"  and 
'boycott,"  and  instantly  we  beg  for  mercy.  We  must 
ubty  our  masters  or  be  punished. 

Social  organisms  develop,  they  are  not  created. 
And  as  every  social  element  is  the  product  of  new  and 
strange  combinations,  the  results  in  individual  cases 
fan  scarcely  be  foretold.  Intelligent  and  thrifty  men 
and  women  make  a  nation  stronger ;  ignorant  and 
degraded  men  and  women  make  a  nation  weaker. 
Base  infusions  are  the  bromine  and  chlorine  which 
dissipate  the  gold  of  our  morality  that  sulphuric  fires 
cannot  affect.  If  the  Chinese  lie  an  indigestible  mass 
ui»n  our  national  stomach,  low  Europeans  have  given 
us  a  worse  political  distemper.  If  the  former,  like 
many  of  our  most  thoughtful  citizens,  manifest  in- 
difftrenco  in  the  exercise  of  the  franchise,  the  latter, 
fresh  from  filth  of  poverty  and  ignorance,  with  no 
more  knowledge  of  our  ways  or  sympathy  with  our 
principh's  than  their  late  stolid  companions,  V'.th  a 

KssAYs  AND  Miscellany    17 


258 


TWO  SIDES  OF  A  VEXED  QUESTION. 


'Ml 


I  •ii 


mental  whoop  pluno-e  into  our  politics  as  if  divinely 
coniinissioned  to  rule  America. 

Health,  in  the  body  social,  consists  in  the  propnr 
performance  of  its  several  functions.  Society  i>i 
sound  only  as  the  people  are  pure.  When  emcrnini,' 
from  a  savage  state  societies  first  began  to  crysttiliizc, 
physical  strength  and  skill  were  the  central  or  wor- 
shipful ideal.  Then  intellect  began  to  assume  sway. 
and  to  some  extent  brute  force  gave  way  befoic  rea- 
son in  the  settlement  of  disputes.  But  the  success 
through  intellectual  craft  and  subtlety,  by  whicli  busi- 
ness men,  orators,  and  writers  become  wealthy  and 
groat,  is  but  one  remove  from  brute  cunning  and  fnrco, 
and  nmst  be  subordinated  to  right  and  principlt\  to 
tlie  sensibility  and  the  will,  before  the  highest  moral- 
ity can  be  approached. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  to  any  country,  at  any 
period  of  its  history,  and  under  almost  any  conccival  !o 
circumstances,  the  accession  of  men  of  learning,  wealtli, 
and  integrity,  of  broad  intelligence,  skill,  and  euer^n-, 
is  a  benefit.  But  with  us  the  question  has  never  as- 
sumed this  shape.  Men  of  such  a  stamp  do  not  as  a 
rule  emigrate  to  new  countries.  They  prefer  the  re- 
fined and  settled  society  of  their  equals ;  they  i)refer 
to  live  among  men  of  cultivation  ^nd  learning,  and  to 
buy  luxuries  in  the  cheapest  market.  Those  who  are 
successful  at  home  seldom  go  abroad  in  search  of  V(  u- 
tures.  Never  have  the  rich  or  the  learned  as  a  class 
come  to  America ;  never  have  those  superior  in  skill, 
intelligence,  and  energy  come  hither  from  Asia,  er 
from  Africa,  or  from  Europe.  A  few  men  of  extraor- 
dinary intelligence  and  activity  have  undoubtedly  ar- 
rived, but  most  of  our  best  men,  I  am  proud  to  say, 
are  of  home  manufacture.  We  have  no  need  of  seml- 
ing  abroad  for  schoolmasters  or  for  city-builders,  and 
if  we  adopt  an  invention  or  a  discovery  from  beyoiul 
any  ocean,  we  are  apt  to  improve  on  it,  and  also  to 
return  an  equivalent  in  some  invention  or  discuvtiy 


INTRODUCTION    OF  SLAVKUY. 


iTii* 


of  our  own.  Nor  have  well-to-do  artisans  and  aufii- 
culturalists  left  conifortable  homes  to  embark  in  liaz- 
ju(l"U3  enterprise  on  these  shores.  Our  better  class 
i)f  farmers  and  mechanies  are  not  foreigners. 

Th(!  iirst  «^reat  nustake  of  the  Engl  is!  i  colonies  in 
Aiiirrivi,  Was  the  importation  of  Afiicans  as  slaves. 
That  cver-to-be-abhorred  Dutch  craft  which  in  1020 
laiidt'd  the  first  twenty  black  bimdmen  at  Jamestown 
was  the  curse  of  God  upon  America.  Tt  was  worse 
tliaii  the  repartiinieidns  of  the  Spaniard  ;  for  the  en- 
slaved Indian  would  die,  while  the  more  stolid  African 
would  not.  There  was  too  nmch  work  yet  to  be  done 
in  America,  too  much  need  of  that  brain-force  and 
iiiuscle-force  which  only  work  gives,  for  the  colonists 
and  their  sons  and  daughters  to  fold  their  hands  an<l 
(l('l>end  solely  upon  others  for  supi)lying  their  wants. 
Hrnco  the  sting  of  the  infliction. 

African  slavery,asidc  from  its  inhumanity,  was  a 
curse.  It  blasted  the  soil  and  the  products  thereof; 
it  blasted  the  air  and  all  who  breathed  it ;  it  blas- 
plienied  God  and  humanity,  morality,  religion,  and 
all  the  institutions  of  progress.  It  had  not  even  tjie 
excuse  of  the  slavery  of  savagism,  as  these  negroes 
wore  not  prisoners  of  war,  but  were  stolen  ;  civilized 
Cinistians  stealing,  and  selling,  and  working  human 
beings  like  cattle. 

For  nearly  two  and  a  half  centuries  the  evil  grew 
until,  midst  mi^ditv  convulsions  which  well-ni<rh  de- 
stioyed  the  integrity  of  the  nation,  the  tumor  burst, 
scattering  its  horrible  stench  far  and  wide,  and  in  the 
cure  eiiofendering  almost  as  great  an  evil  as  durinjj  its 
;4rowth.  Having  these  emancipated  chattels  on  our 
hands,  to  the  number  of  little  less  than  four  millions 
in  1800,  and  being  moved  with  pity  for  the  wrongs 
we  had  done  them  ;  or,  more  truthfully  stated,  tJie 
(loniinant  party  needing  votes  with  which  to  hold 
tluir  power,  this  black  and  brutish  horde  was  taken 
to  our  national  bosom,  which  has  been  rank-smelling 
and  sooty  ever  since. 


260 


TWO  SIDES  OF  A  VEXED  QUESTION. 


riH 


It  was  not  until  after  the  war  of  1812  that  lar<^'(( 
accessions  were  received  from  Eunjpe,  and  as  new 
western  states  were  then  rapidly  springing  up,  the  im- 
pure  atmosphere  thus  engendered  was  carried  oil'  into 
the  wilderness. 

The  current  of  immigration  rose  midst  fluctuations 
from  about  4000  yearly  between  1784  and  l7()Ji  to 
22,240,  in  1817.  The  stream  broadened  and  deep- 
ened  until  in  1875  not  far  from  six  millions  of  Europe's 
indigestible  masses  had  been  vomited  on  our  shon  s, 
the  rate  being  since  1820  over  100,000  per  annum, 
not  more  than  300,000  having  come  over  previously. 
Of  these,  over  2,000,000  were  from  Ireland,  over 
1,000,000  from  Germany,  a  quarter  of  a  million 
English,  50,000  Scotch,  and  about  200,000  Frencli. 
Whatever  may  have  been  the  material  advantages  of 
these  fuliginous  clouds,  the  wholesale  adulteration  of 
Anglo-American  blood  has  unquestionably  resulted 
in  tenfold  as  monstrous  moral  and  political  evils  as 
Africa  and  Asia  combined  has  brought  or  is  likely  to 
bring  upon  us. 

To  large  land  holders  who  wish  to  build  cities  and 
sell  the  suburbs  to  manufacturers  in  want  of  artisans, 
to  merchants  in  need  of  customers,  to  lawyers  looking 
for  clients,  and  doctors  in  quest  of  patients,  to  politi- 
cians hankering  for  office,  to  traffickers,  schemers, 
and  non-producers  of  every  quality,  the  speedy  peo- 
pling of  this  land,  and  every  part  of  it,  seemed  of  all 
policies  the  wisest  and  best,  and  of  all  things  the  one 
most  greatly  to  be  desired. 

It  is  only  a  question  of  time  when  America  will 
recognize  her  mistake.  To  behold  America  as  it  will 
be,  we  have  but  to  look  at  Europe  and  Asia  as  they 
are.  Europe  and  Asia  overcrowded  and  with  no  out- 
let ;  Europe  and  Asia  teeming  with  a  rapidly  multi- 
plying population  of  ignorant  and  diseased  humanity 
with  no  America  or  Australia  to  empty  it  into. 
Westward  civilization   has  crowded,  until  on  these 


CROWDET)  HUMANITY 


Sftl 


racific;  shores  wo  front  the  oast.  The  circle  is  coni- 
|iloU'.  A  few  centuries,  and  in  point  of  population, 
in  jtoiiit  of  packed  and  stifled  humanity,  America  will 
1k'  wliut  Europe  and  Asia  now  are,  only  worse,  in- 
tiiiittly  worse,  m  having  no  outlet,  save  through  war, 
(.r  jH-stilence,  or  other  dire  inflictions  which  shall  cut 
otr  Infore  its  time  portions  of  the  redundant  race. 
Sucli  iinoads  are  contracted  however  by  our  civiliza- 
tion, whicli  tends  to  the  preservation  of  life,  and  to 
the  speedier  attainment  of  its  geographical  limit.  The 
law  (»t  fecundity  alone  promises  to  increase  our  number 
witli  every  successive  generation,  while  the  sources 
for  footl  supply  are  correspondingly  decreasing. 

However  this  may  be,  there  is  no  danger  of  imme- 
diate (Hstress,  either  from  lack  of  land  or  increase  of 
l(o|»uliition.  There  is  still  left  considerable  good  laixl, 
whili!  ill  crowded  and  well-tilled  countries  like  Eiiolaiid 
itoricultural  products  may  readily  be  much  increased. 
Fiance  does  not  produce  proportionately  as  much  as 
Mii;4laiid,  and  America  is  far  behind  France  in  this 
ivspcct. 

This  aspect  renders  only  more  glaring  the  huddling 
ill  our  cities  of  hordes  of  hungry  laboring  men  and 
women,  especially  inflowing  foreigners,  howling  against 
tlie  rich,  when  by  scattering  on  unoccupied  lands  they 
iiiiylit  prove  a  blessing  to  themselves  and  to  tlie 
ttiuiitry,  and  banish  poverty  from  America  these  hun- 
dred years  to  come.  From  this  gathering  result  the 
many  uncalled-for  strikes,  riots,  and  disorders  which 
liaw  disgraced  our  republican  organization  before  the 
wiiild.  They  are  due  to  sucli  alien  rabbles  as  in  San 
Francisco  meet  upon  the  sand-lots  and  threaten  fire 
and  pistol  to  all  who  employ  Chinese  labor  hi  prefer- 
once  to  their  own. 

Not  long  ago  with  pointed  bayonet  we  demanded 
coiiiniercial  relations  with  China;  now  our  bavom  ts 
are  pointed  agamst  those  whose  friendly  interct)urse 
wc  so  lately  coveted.  It  is  not  the  ultimate  aim 
herein  that  we  detest, as  it  embraces  nmch  good,  but 


2i;-j 


TWO  SIDKS  OF  A  VEXED  QUESTION. 


1  ■   ', ! 


1  ■'■ 


111'!.  J.  d 


!1; 


the  means  employed  and  the  manner  of  it.  In  view  of 
this,  W(,'ll  mii^ht  we  exckiim  witii  astounded  Eui<)|h': 
Our  eivilization  and  eliristianity,  our  hoast(;d  lilidtv 
and  free  eidis^litened  institutions  whicli  aspire  to  si  t 
the  world  an  cxani})le  in  proL^ress  and  prospciitv. 
what  are  they  that  they  should  fear  the  weak  aiid 
inotfensive  touch  of  paganism?  What  folly  in  us  to 
heaj)  curses  on  others  for  ])ractising  the  very  viitm  s 
we  preach  daily  to  our  children  I 

We  have  suddeidy  ijjrown  strangelv  conccMiKd, 
fearful  least  a  hundred  thousanrl  Asiati«-s,  b'-'^giiii;  at 
our  back  door  the  favor  of  scrubbing  (»ur  kitclicus, 
that  these  shrinking,  trembliMg  creatures  shmild  at 
some  day,  not  far  distant,  arisi-  and  with  a  wave  of 
their  hand  overturn  and  scatter  to  the  four  winds  the 
institutions  of  fifty  millions  of  freemen.  Fifty  tlmu- 
siind  Englishmen  in  Bengal  hold  in  subjection  one 
huiulred  million  souls ;  and  here  fifty  million  Aiiuri- 
cans  tremble  before^  a  hundre<l   thousand  Chiiiaiiuii. 

Asia  and  America  acknowledged  the  right  of  uni- 
versal and  unrestricted  migration  in  tlie  J^uiTnigaiiio 
treaty.  In  its  fifth  article  i>oth  "coi'dially  recogiiizr 
the  inherent  and  inalienable  right  of  man  to  clian^v 
his  home  and  allegiance."  After  having  traiiiplMl 
down  tlu;  scruples  of  thismummyfied  eastern  ci\  ili/a- 
tion  so  far  as  to  obtain  this  concession,  we  iiii'iiit 
l>lush  to  be  foremost  in  breaking  the  compact,  and  ;n' 
knowled*j;in'j:  lu'fore  tlie  world  that  oui'  instil ntieas 
are  unable  to  withstand  tlie  presence  of  heatlieni>in 
among  them.  Our  lil)erty.  our  Christianity,  our  intellj- 
gence,  our  progress  are  nothing  if  they  do  not  etli  r 
mankind  a  fairer  prospect,  a  brighter  ho[)e,  a  sinvr 
nnvard.  No  doubt  we  have  ix'en  hasty  in  this  as  in 
many  other  nieasures;  but  if  we  wish  to  acknewl- 
oAgv.  t]w  mistake,  and  n-vise  our  l^olicy,  then  let  our 
new  ruling  iipply  equally  to  all. 


One  quality  the  people   of  the  TTnited  States  liavt^ 
developed    in    a    remarkable   degree-- that   of  strain. 


AMERICAN  STRAIN. 


And  very  properly  we  may  catalogue  it  among  our 
many  virtues.  We  delight  in  the  accomplishment  of 
grc.it  things.  To  accoiuplisli  great  things  wc  are 
willing  to  strain  ourselves.  Sometimes  we  strain  our- 
sdvi's  over  little  things,  thinking  them  great.  Often 
we  strain  at  the  gnats  of  iniquity  and  swallow  a 
camel.  Wi^  strain  at  skepticism  and  swallow  lilnTtin- 
ibMi;  wo  strain  at  political  tyranny  and  swallow  mo- 
iin|  oly;  we  strain  at  the  low  Chinese  and  swallow  the 
liiw  l']iiroj)oan. 

Perhaps  the  best  way  to  cxtermin,\i?  a  national  or 
gorial  evil  is  for  all  the  people  to  rush  upon  it  with 
0!ii'  accord  and  stamp  it  out.  It  may  sometimes  he 
the  only  way.  It  may  he  the  best  way  so  to  magnify 
this  one  evil,  tiiat  all  other  evils.  tii(»ugh  there  be 
among  tiicni  some  as  great  or  greater  than  the  one 
present  pet  evil,  shall  tein|K)rarily  sink  to  insignifi- 
caiu't^  beside  it.  Perhaps  this  evil  has  become  so  rank 
thai  the  united  power  of  the  people  is  required  to  put 
it  down,  and  in  no  other  way  can  the  strength  of  th" 
nation  be  so  concentrated  as  by  takuig  up  one  thing 
at  a  time,  or  perhaps  two,  leaving  all  the  rest  alone 
until  these  be  extinguished. 

There  nmst  be  sonie  tincture  of  fanaticism  on  the 
suhject  in  order  to  bring  men's  minds  to  tlie  proper 
state  of  frenzy  where  thoy  can  strike  quick  and  heavy 
blows,  regardless  of  the  conse(|Uences.  Cool  opinions 
quietly  expressed  are  lot  suttieient  to  Hto[)  di'am-driidt- 
in!,'.  The  matron's  scowl  of  superior  virtue  on  meet- 
\n<f  an  errinti  sister,  is  not  sntheient  to  i)ut  down 
prostitution.  There  must  be  thrown  mto  the  caus(! 
tlinf,  (iery  heat  which  can  only  be  generated  by  con- 
<;i'0'4ation3  wrought  upon  by  speeches  and  discussions. 
Hut  as  to  these,  our  standard  evils,  gambling,  drink- 
iti'.',  Mild  prostitution,  which  the  world  has  tried  so 
oft'Mi  and  so  unsuccessfully  to  eradicate,  though  there 
an^  still  spasms  of  reform  m  these  directions,  we  gen- 
erally have  singled  out  some  other  monster  to  vent 
oui  righteous  energies  upon  for  the  time. 


264 


TWO  SIDES  OP  A  VEXED  QUESTION. 


I 


For  fifty  years  the  good  people  of  the  northern 
United  States  took  solid  comfort  in  fighting  the  great 
dragon  Slavery.  In  some  sections  this  iniquity  on 
tlie  part  of  our  neighbors  stood  out  in  such  bold  relief 
as  to  throw  into  the  shade  all  the  sins  of  the  decalogue 
conibiiied.  In  the  eyes  of  the  anti-slavery  fanatics, 
nothing  good  could  belong  to  any  man  who  did  not 
denounce  slavery  and  the  slave  holders;  and  so  filled 
with  this  frenzy  were  they,  that  no  room  remained  in 
their  minds  or  hearts  for  minor  matters.  And  wlun 
the  tiling  was  dead  they  could  not  refrain  from  kick- 
ing the  carcass  for  years  afterward.  Temi)L'raiice 
zealots,  too,  sometimes  forget  that  drunkards  have 
rights,  and  may  as  justly  prescribe  what  others  shall 
eat,  as  to  be  by  law  restricted  in  their  drink.  Nor  is 
it  so  easy  a  question  to  determhie  which  of  the  two 
evils  is  the  <;rcater,  negro  suflfrage  or  ne-j^ro  slaver  v. 

This  may  be  the  best  way,  the  quickest  way,  the 
only  wa}',  even  though  it  does  lead  to  some  excesses 
when  the  blood  is  up ;  even  though  we  are  thereby 
thrown  into  some  absurdities,  and  forget  ourselves, 
forget  to  exercise  that  right  and  reason  which  we  so 
nmch  desire  always  to  see  in  others,  forget  that  we 
are  all  sinners,  that  none  of  us  live  up  to  our  Ii'il::!! 
privileges  in  every  respect  as  social  beings  and  citizens, 
and  that  if  we  punish  some  offences  unduK'  while  let- 
ting others  run  at  large,  we  are  committing  two  i^icat 
wrongs,  in  punishing  one  wickedness  more  than  it,  de- 
serves in  comparison  with  another  which  is  permitted 
to  go  unpunished,  or  so  lightly  competed  as  to  L,'ive 
the  imi)ression  that  it  is  only  a  small  sin. 

Of  late  we  have  singled  out  two  of  our  several 
great  dragons,  and  are  expending  all  our  energies  in 
their  extermination.  This  is  well;  but  it  is  well  aUo 
not  to  lose  our  heads  and  fall  into  all  manner  of  lyings 
and  self-delusions.  Probably  there  has  never  hei  ii 
as  nmch  nonsense  written  and  sjiokcn  in  Ameiiea  u]i- 
on  any  two  subjects,  as  u])on  those  of  polygamy  and 
mongolianisin.     And   in    both    eases  the   true  eau-o 


EXTERMINATION  OF  EVILS. 


2G5 


of  ofrcnsc,  tho  matter  of  suffrage,  is  in  the  main  left 
wlinlly  out  of  tlie  discussion — one  votes  too  much  aiul 
the  other  too  little.  In  both  cases  about  the  only 
p.rsoiis  affected  are  the  demagogues,  whose  business 
it  is  to  pander  to  the  prejudices  and  depravity  of  the 
|Kn|tlo.  Nt)r  is  the  strange  part  of  it  that  in  our  free 
',111(1  easy  govern njcnt  the  management  of  affairs  should 
bo  so  largely  in  the  hands  of  false  aiid  deceiving  men. 
—some  of  them  self-deluded,  unquestionably — but  that 
the  jiiople  at  large  should  be  so  easily  and  completely 

gull  I'd. 

Ill  concluding  this  exposd  of  the  Chinese  question 
we  may  say  then:  That  the  presence  in  our  midst, 
ill  tNir- increasing  numbers,  of  low  Asiatics,  is  a 
]i;ilji;ible  curse;  and  for  the  people  of  the  United 
Stages  to  [)ermit  them  to  swarm  here  ad  libitum  would 
be  about  as  sensible  as  to  welcome  a  })lague  of  locusts. 

They  are  an  abomination,  worse  than  tho  gypsies 
in  l^ll^land  or  the  Arabs  in  Spain.  They  lie,  anil 
teal,  smoke  oi)ium,  and  gaml)le;  they  ciioat,  and 
swear  ill  horrible  heathen  gutterals,  to  the  horror  (f 
white  Christians.  The  Chinese  are  clannish,  crnwd- 
iiiu  tlinnselves  into  close,  filthy  quarters;  they  work 
till,  iiiucli,  loaf  about  the  streets  too  little,  and  do  not 
i^lH'iid  niont'y  enough.  They  do  not  get  up  strikes; 
tlicy  are  not  g(M)d  stump-speakers,  they  do  not  care 
to  cut  a  figure  on  the  ffoor  of  the  national  senat(!  cham- 
1"  r,  they  do  not  want  to  be  governor  or  policeman. 
Wliitc  men  do  and  want  all  these  tliin<>s.  The  Chi- 
IMS''  do  not  amalgamate:  thev  ^vill  not  marrv  our 
ilaii-litcrs,  or  seduce  our  servants;  they  will  not  at- 
t<  ihl  mass  regularly,  or  be  punctual  at  an  orthodox 
I'il'le  cla.ss.  They  take  the  food  out  of  the  mouths  of 
nth.  rs  lately  imported,  and  now  })atriots  at  the  polls. 
pitroiis  of  the  corner  groctny,  curb-stone  tenders, 
witdiers  of  the  public  weal,  and  who  very  rightly 
sofii  to  shovel  dirt  never  so  sh)wly  for  less  than  two 
•li'llars  a  day,  while  the  destinies  of  the  nation  are 
nstiii^^  on  their  shoiddei-s. 

Tin  11  again  we  are  very  sure  that  the  four  hundred 


5 ,«  , 


«  '  I', 


II     I 


TWO  SIDES  OF  A  VEXED  QUESTION. 


millions  of  these  people  over  the  ocean,  who  liiuo 
linrdly  standing  room,  liavo  sent  thcsse  fifty  or  a  liiui- 
divd  thousand  to  our  shores  to  open  the  way  for  the 
four  ]iun(h-('d  millions;  who  are  even  now  makinj;  iiiid 
huyin:;'  a  million  of  ships  wherein  to  come  and  cajituic 
us  all,  to  seize  our  lands  and  make  us  slaves.  Jl  is 
too  horrihle  to  contemplate;  W(!  nmst  send  those  who 
are  here  back  at  once,  and  forbid  the  four  huiididl 
millions  to  come  in  their  million  of  ships  to  capture  us 
and  make  us  slaves. 

It  is  quite  different  with  the  low  African  and  tho 
low  European.  They  do  not  work  too  mu<'li.  or  ju  too 
low  a  waj^e,  or  economize  too  much,  or  pass  i)y  id!  the 
<ii'inking  shops  without  lookinjjf  in,  or  nej^lect  to  run 
up  a  1)111  at  the  butchers  if  they  can  get  trusted  ;  tli'v 
will  an»algamate,  make  themselves  at  hom<!  in  <  iir 
houses,  do  our  voting,  beg,  and  steal,  and  breed  Ik  i:- 
gars  and  thieves,  build  and  fill  our  j)eniti'ntiaii(s.  i^d 
to  congress,  and  read  a  news])aper.  This  is  tlie  iiiiid 
of  populatien  we  want;  it  is  for  the  helping  hillicmf 
such  as  tliese  that  we  have  innnigration  societies  and 
secure  larg(>  con tribuv ions. 

lVr]inp.s  it  would  be  too  much  for  me  to  ;t>s(  it 
that  not  one  in  a.  hundred  of  the  intidligent  nn  i;  ct' 
C'difoi-nia  are  realh'  sincere  in  their  tiraxh^s  auaiiist 
tin-  Chinese.  No  doubt  they  have  ac(|uired  the  ludiit 
of  regarding  these  special  peojde  as  an  unniitigaftd 
evil,  even  while  cieploying  some  of  them  as  larni  cdnks 
and  in  like  oecujtattons,  ii,  which  they  excel,  and  w  hiti 
men  and  women  do  not  care  to  engage  in.  Jlul  this 
I  can  say,  that  no  <  l(>ar-]ieaded,  unprejudie<  (h  faii- 
minded  and  (.lisinterested  man  can  endorse  the  ship- 
loads of  twaddh;  constantly  being  writti'n  and  spnki  n 
by  demaivo^ues  of  everv  denomination  about  t!i  •  dan- 
ger  to  our  institutions,  and  the  demoralization  of  nui 
people  by  the  (.'hinese.  They  are  \(*\\,  ignorant.  d( - 
based,  and  filthy  heat  lu-n  ;  wc  likiiwise  ]ia\(  ji.w,  i^nnr- 
ant,  debasc^d.  and  (illhy  Cliristians.  Whieii  ait  tin 
worse.''     We   want  n»Mther,  but   why  shigle  out  tho 


m 


HOLLOW  orixioxs. 


207 


A:  liitio  to  vent  upon  hiin  this  indignation,  wliicli  is 
the  usult  wholly  of  our  own  folly?  As  numy  .sound 
atiiuiiu'iits  can  bo  brought  against  tolerating  here  tho 
Ati  icaii,  and  twice  as  many  against  tho  presence  of 
thr  low  Kuropean. 

In  tact,  sound  arj^'umcnts  arc  seldom  touched  in 
this  connection.  Tho  true  cause  of  our  special  dislike 
foi'  tli(^  Chinese  is  kept  carefully  concealed.  The  pol- 
iticiiui  docs  not  mount  the  stunii*  and  say  that  the 

i  1/ 

Chinaman  nmst  go  because  he  has  no  vote,  but  my 
lihirk  brotlicr  and  my  white  brotlier  may  stay  because 
tiuv  have  votes.  Tho  n('wsi)apers  do  not  adnut  that 
tilt  y  say  the  Chinese  must  go  because  it  is  easier  and 
iiKirr  ))rofitablo  to  foster  current  opinion  than  to  en- 
li;i,f!iti'n  the  people.  The  minister  and  missionary  do 
lint  admit  tliat  they  say  the  Chin(\sr  must  go.  because 
tii'X  would  lose  their  situation  if  they  [uvached  against 
p('])u]ar  })rejudico. 

It  is  b(>coming  an  ajijuirently  difficult  matter  for  the 
Ameiican  jieople  to  please  thmiselves  i!i  evciy  |>;irticu- 
hn'.  Tliey  s(!cMn  quite  satisticil  to  let  the  low  European 
rule  tiiem  through  unprincipled  demagogues,  but  tluy 
jirofess  not  to  li''e  the  Chinaman  be<?ause  he  will  n^t 
!iiii;il;.'iimate  and  nu-ddle  in  poHtics.  The  IMornions, 
on  tiie  other  hand,  amalgamate!  too  nmch.  and  aie  ttut 
many  for  their  neighbors  at  elections;  they  vote  oidy 
lor  th'ir  own  candidates,  and  so  ]>oiiticians  cry  that, 
tliev  nuist  go.  Again,  the  Chinamen  may  have  their 
.h»s  liouse  and  si'conchiry  wives  ti>  iheir  hearts'  con- 
tent. l)ut  not  so  the  Mormons. 

It",  as  I  have  said,  we  could  go  l>ack  fifty  or  a  hun- 
dred years,  and  say  to  ail  h)W  foreigners,  whitt\  black, 
and  vidlow,  ''This  Amej'icaik  land  we  want  for  our- 
xKesand  our  cliildren;  we  jtrojutse  to  breed  here  a 
siipeiior  race,  and  we  cannot  have  our  Idood  debased 
hy  constant  interntixtures  with  the  common  stock  of 
•  •tlii'r  countries  ;  henc(>  you  caimot  come  here," — such 
Uieiaid  Taken  wovdd  have  been  clear,  logical,  and  .sen- 
silile.     True,  we  might  not  have  rolled  up  wtjalth  and 


2G8 


TWO  SIOKS  OF  A    VKXKI)  Ql'KSiloV. 


po[)ulati(»ii  SO  rap'ully,  but  wo  would  have  had  what  Is 
far  IxtttT  than  wealtli  and  population  a  noMii  lair, 
a  purer  «4<»vernmerit,  a  less  artificial  society  ;  \\v  would 
have  saved  our  lands  for  our  sons  and  daui;lit(is, 
whom  we  niis^ht  have  taught  to  lai>or  with  tin  ir 
liands  and  brains,  thus  avoiding  not  one  but  a  lauuhid 
evils. 

I5ut  we  did  not  do  this.  While  one  part  of  tlio 
commonwealth  was  huu'^injj^  closer  to  its  lirart  tliat 
monster,  slavery,  witii  no  small  l>lood  intermixtnit  s 
of  white  and  black,  tlie  other  portion  of  the  nation 
was  sjn'tulini^  time  and  money  in  bringiuij;'  to  our  slicics 
th<'  lower  classes  of  Irish,  English,  Dutch,  Scandinjn- 
ians,  and  others  of  Europe,  who  presiMitly  were  put 
upon  an  equality,  politically  and  industrially,  with  tlie 
higliest,  tli(!  most  intelligent,  learned,  and  weultliv  in 
our  land.  The  most  illiterate  and  stupid  dolt,  lately 
from  the  bogs  of  Ireland  or  the  coal-pits  of  Kn^land, 
who  had  scarcely  more  inti-lliujent  ideas  about  g(ivci!i- 
luent  and  right-doing  than  a  fence-post,  could  It' 
brought  over  from  Europe,  and  his  vote  at  an  cloctidii, 
which  a  driidc  of  whisky  would  buy,  was  estimated  ,1 
fair  offset  for  that  of  Daniel  Webster;  three  of  these 
donkeys  were  equal  to  Webster,  Clay,  and  Calhoun. 

We  usetl  to  [)rido  ourselves  that  hero  in  Anieiica 
should  be  throughout  all  time  the  camping-gruuud  of 
the  nations.  All  the  world  were  invited  to  come 
)(ithcr  and  be  happy  and  be  free.  Our  gov«'rniii»  iit 
was  the  best  in  the  world;  it  made  all  men  free  and 
(  quab  no  matter  how  many  slaves  it  fostered,  or  how 
many  foreign  vagabonds  it  made  citizens.  Whatever 
nature  had  dorui,  the  Ameiican  constitution  was  su- 
perior to  nature,  and  ma<le  Caliban  the  equal  of  Tros- 
pero.  So  higli-minded  and  free  were  Amerii-aiis,  with 
their  rl(h  lands  and  unapitcoachable  institutions,!  hat 
they  soon  b(>gan  to  regard  with  disfavor  tlu*  ohhr  and 
less  open-handed  nations,  and  even  went  so  far  some- 
times as  to  force  Lhe  gates  marked  "No  Admittaii  • . 
No  nation  had  a  right  to  fence  otfa  part  of  this  earth, 


UNDER  OTHER  CONDITIONS. 


2G9 


wliicli  was  made  by  the  creator  of  all  for  the  free  use 
(if  all,  and  say,  "You  shall  not  enter  here." 

In  all  this  a  great  mistake  was  made.  Free  religion 
is  Wfll  I'uough,  for  heaven  is  large,  and  hell  is  larger 
still ;  hut  lands  are  limited,  and  whatever  may  he  said 
ill  our  self-glorification  assemblages,  whatever  we 
think  we  believ(^  about  it,  our  true  opinion  of  our  free 
and  enlightened  institutions  is  shown  when  we  take 
I IV  the  hand  and  politieally  make  first  our  equal,  and 
tiii'ti  our  master,  ignorant  and  rank-smelling  foreigners 
tit  only  ft>r  tcaiding  swine. 

Hut  fortunatiily  we  have  learned  the  lesson  in  time 
to  a])[)ly  it  at  least  to  the  people  of  one  nationality. 
It'  with  the  h)W  A-siutic  we  could  at  the  same  time 
krrp  out  the  low  African  and  the  low  European,  it 
would  l)c  better  still,  but  we  should  be  thaidvful  to 
have  had  our  eyes  opened  at  last,  and  have  taken 
steps  to  ke(ip  away  one  bad  element,  even  if  others  as 
had  arc  perinittiitl  to  come. 

Had  no  low-born  f)reigners  ever  been  admitted, 
our  sons  and  daughters  would  have  been  obllt'ed  to 
work,  and  work  is  strcmgthening  and  ennobling.  It 
develops  body  and  mind  as  no  other  condition  or  in- 
vention can  do.  The  highest  and  healthiest  civiliza- 
tion is  not  found  aiono'  the  most  fashionable  streets  of 
Boston  and  New  York;  it  is  in  the  more  rural  <lis- 
tiiets,  when;  life  is  less  .artificial  and  Indlow,  and  men 
;iiid  women  work  wuth  head  and  hands,  living  j)iously 
and  virtuouslv,  and  Hearing  sons  to  take;  the  foremost 
plaers  in  the  marts  of  commerce  and  tlie  halls  of  Icgis- 
l:ition.  Young  men  and  women  brought  U[)  in  the 
liot-hcds  of  our  cities  to  tlo  nothing  but  minist(>r  to 
tlitir  own  selfish  and  to»)  often  sinful  pleasures  are  as 
a  rule  of  little  or  no  value.  They  come  and  go  like 
the  soft  south  wind,  leaving  no  mai'k. 

Xow  the  Chinaman,  howsoever  d<'graded  he  is,  is 
^  thin;j,'  that  works  ;  ho  works  <liligently,  and  econo- 
Miizos  closely,  so  tliat  he  may  have  enough  to  buy 
liiui.self  a  small-footed  wife  when  he  goes  back  to 


370 


TWO  SIDES  OF  A   VEXED  QUESTION. 


I'iM 


Cliina.  TJut  Iiowever  valuable  sucli  qualities  may  be 
ivgarded  in  our  children,  we  do  not  like  tlieni  in  tlie 
imported  heathen  ;  we  do  not  want  the  Chinese  luie 
to  deprive  our  children  of  the  great  blessings  of  lulior. 
True,  tliere  is  the  African  and  European,  wlio  soiik'. 
times  work,  and  wc  permit  them  to  come,  but  tliut  is 
(juito  dirtVirent.  They  do  not  work  much,  or  vi  ly 
hard;  and  then,  after  due  washings  and  bleachiiiL,'s 
they  intermarry  with  us,  and  by  and  by  go  to  coiigix  ss. 

The  resulting  i)ro«j:env,  it  is  true,  is  not  of  the  host 
stock;  there  is  too  niuch  mustang  m  it;  and  dis- 
tributed generally  throughout  all  tlie  states  of  the 
union,  with  its  never-ceasing  inflowing  current,  it 
tietcriorates  and  dwarfs  tlie  wliole  mass.  But  even 
if  the  efleet  is  bad,  we  like  the  disposition.  Wc  do 
not  wish  to  have  the  lieathen  come  here  and  look 
down  on  us,  our  daughters,  and  our  institutions;  we 
do  not  wish  when  tiiey  have  washed  our  d(n)rst(  ]  s, 
to  have  tluMU  take  the  half  dollar  and  spend  it  in 
China,  though  speculating  manipulators  may  swindle 
the  people  out  of  millions,  and  spend  their  ill-gottrn 
gains  at  the  east  and  in  Europe  and  have  nothing 
tliough.t  of  it.  Speculating  manipulators  are  imt 
Cliincise  ;  if  tliey  were,  it  would  have  been  a  gi'cat 
blessing  to  this  coast. 

Hence  I  say  tliatthe  rise  and  development  of  ojiinion 
in  California  on  the  Chinese  question  presents  one  of 
the  most  singular  anomalies  in  the  history  of  liuiiiitii 
societies.  It  is  not  so  strange  in  the  conclusions  arriv(  d 
at,  that  the  Cliinaman  here  is  a  imisance,  an  uuIm'- 
liever,  un-American,  and  altogether  an  unclean  thiti;.; 
not  wanted  in  our  midst — this  is  not  so  strange  as  is 
the  method  by  which  we  reach  such  conclusions. 
The  arguments  employed  are  so  fallacious,  the  ground 
taken  so  fanatical,  as  to  make  a  disinterested  ohst  iver 
question  our  sincerity  or  sanity. 

Going  back  to  the  beginninjj  of  Anglo- American 
occupation  in  these  parts,  and  the  rnsh  hitlier  of  nii  ii 
from  every  quarter  upon  the  discovery  of  gold,  and 


ILLOGICAL  ARGUMENTS. 


971 


ors  arc    in  it 


wo  find  tlie  great  Ainerioaii  miner  promulgating  with 
kiiit't!  and  pistol  tlio  doctrine — not  that  Asiatics  alone, 
or  lunn;  than  others,  should  stay  away,  but  that  no 
foit  igners  should  bo  allowed  here.  So  thoy  made 
raids  on  Chinese  and  Mexicans,  Frenchmen  and  Eng- 
JishiiKii — in  fact  upon  all  foreigners,  killing  some  and 
taxing  all  severely  on  the  grouiul  that  we  had  beaten 
^jrxico  fairly  f)ut  of  these  gold  fields,  and  that  conse- 
qut'iitly  the  gold  was  ours,  and  not  to  bo  scooped  up 
and  carried  to  England,  or  Egypt,  or  China.  Whether 
right  or  wrong  in  this,  they  were  at  least  reasonable 
and  logical  in  their  proposition  and  deduction,  and 
that  is  more  than  can  be  said  of  our  peoi)le  to-day. 

The  American  miners,  after  some  beating  and  kill- 
ing of  Mexi*  ins,  Chinese,  and  Kanakas,  with  occa- 
sinna!  growls  at  Englishmen,  Irishmen,  and  French- 
nii'ii,  the  placer  mines  meanwhile  having  been  skimmed 
of  their  surface  richness,  concluded  that  it  might  be 
just  as  well  to  let  foreigners  have  a  share  in  the  scrap- 
ings, hut  to  tax  them  royally  for  the  privilege.  Of 
coiiise  the  persecution  fell  heaviest  upon  the  weakest. 
Under  tliis  treatment  the  Kanakas  soon  withered; 
the  ]\[exieans  returned  to  their  homes  by  the  thou- 
sands, the  Europeans  gradually  moved  off,  leaving 
the  Chinaman  to  catch  the  full  force  of  the  blows  the 
gjvat  American  man  continued  striking  in  defence  of 
his  hie,  liberty,  and  sacred  honor. 

it  is  just  a  little  farcical  to  see  our  great  American 
men  fume  and  bluster  over  these  little  Asiatics,  who 
with  others  came  here  by  invitation,  and  tluit  of  not 
so  very  old  a  date,  threatening  to  anniliihitc  them, 
til  "  diaw  'em  all  up,"  as  did  the  giant  to  Jack,  uidess 
incoitinently  they  go  away  and  stay  away  ;  es[)ecially 
when  these  same  blusterers  were  so  lately  before  the 
Avails  of  China,  in  company  with  their  English  breth- 
len.  threatening  to  batter  down  their  gates  if  they 
AViiuld  not  let  them  in. 

If  is  just  a  little  comical  to  see  the  white  skins  of 
this  exalted  Christian  civilization  in  deep  disgust  cry 


272 


TWO  SIDES  OF  A  VEXED  QUESTION. 


■I 


ii' 


V    ^! 


"pall!"  to  tho  smokers  of  the  divine  drug  so  lately 
forced  upon  the  reluctant  Asiatics  at  the  point  of  tho 
bayonet. 

As  the  years  passed  by,  time  and  whiskey  weakened 
tho  arm  of  the  honest  American  miner,  so  that  the 
Chinamen,  burrowing  as  harmless  as  mules  hi  tiiiice- 
worked-out  river  bars,  found  some  respite.  Moic  of 
them  came  and  entered  uix)n  other  pursuits,  such  as 
washing  clotlies,  cooking,  digging  ditches,  making; 
railroads,  and  working  in  factories;  for  tlu-y  proved 
to  be  handy  and  not  much  given  to  drunkennOss. 

B'or  all  this  the  true  American  man  cared  notliiiiLr; 
he  did  not  wish  to  cook,  wash  clothes,  or  work  (tii  a 
railroad;  ho  could  do  bettor;  in  fact  he  was  glad  to 
get  in  this  wilderness  so  docile  and  efficient  a. ^cin  ant. 
to  relievo  himself  and  family  from  some  portion  of 
their  drudgery.  And  had  these  two  races  been  left 
alone  in  the  matter,  nothing  njore  would  have  coini! 
of  it.  There  would  have  been  no  bugbear  talk  of  a 
Chinese  invasion,  for  the  American  man  well  knew  that 
he  had  no  reason  to  fear  that  the  Mongols  who  had 
walled  themselves  in  for  thirty  or  sixty  centuries  were 
all  on  a  sudden  to  pour  forth  from  their  gates,  buy  a 
hundred  thousand  ships  and  come  over  and  cai)tii)o 
the  United  States. 

Had  there  been  none  to  interfere  between  the  groat 
American  man  and  the  little  China  man,  nothing  would 
have  been  said  about  the  pittance  of  gold  the  drmluo 
carried  away  with  him  when  he  went  home,  lea\  iiiL( 
in  its  place  the  fruits  of  his  labor  in  the  form  of  a 
canal,  or  railroad,  or  other  useful  accomplislinient, 
any  more  than  we  would  think  of  complaining  wlu  ii 
the  stock-jobV)er  or  monopolist  carries  away  to  the  east 
or  Europe  his  stolen  millions,  leaving  along  his  trail 
thousands  of  shattered  fortunes  and  moral  and  politu  al 
debasement. 

Nothing  would  have  been  said  about  the  poor  pii,'- 
tail's  religion;  let  him  have  his  little  gods,  and  scatti  r 
papers  to  the  devil;  what  harm  can  it  do?     Xotliing 


l^\ 


ALL  VERY  LOW. 


27.1 


would  liavo  been  said  about  indilTorcnco  to  citize  isliip 
and  aiiialgaiiiation,  or  refusal  to  go  to  congress.  Who 
uuiiis  tliut  good  and  patient  servant,  tiie  niuic,  to  Ije- 
come  an  American  citizen,  and  who  wants  his  blood 
dt-luisc'd  by  mixture  witli  that  of  the  Africjin  or  low 
Kui(>[Han ?  And  yet  the  nmle,  the  ntgro,  or  tho 
Kuiujuan  were  never  so  persecuted  as  tlie  Chiiiesn 
jiiivc  been.  And  tlie  Chinaman  is  more  a  nec(>ssity 
in  (  alifortiia  to-day  than  was  ever  the  steam-engine 
or  «j;aii!^-i)l(>ugh. 

Whether  or  not  a  mistake  was  made  fifty  years  aofo 
in  iiiliiiittiiig  freely  a  turbid  stream  of  population  from 
Europe,  which  our  peoi)le  liad  constantly  to  absorb, 
to  tlieir  eternal  debasement,  it  is  very  safe  to  say  that 
it  was  a  great  mistake  to  let  this  element  conie  in  and 
l)m)iiie  our  rulers.  To  liave  made  the  nmle  a  voter 
and  our  ruler  would  have  been  no  more  foolishly  ab- 
sui'd  tlian  to  make  a  voter  and  <jovernor  of  shock- 
hiaded  Africans  just  emancipated  from  slavery.  For 
such  i)rivileges  and  offices  the  Indian  has  more  rights 
and  the  Asiatic  more  intelligence. 

liut  call  this  black  enfranchisement  a  piece  of  ])lea8- 
antiy  on  the  part  of  republican  j)atriots — at  whi<'h 
game  they  tlid  not  win  largely — there  is  still  a  darker 
clcnu'iit  in  our  pt)litics.  The  greate^jt  curse  ever  en- 
tailed ujion  our  government  and  institutions  was  in 
giving  the  low  European  a  hand  in  them.  Herein 
lies  the  cause  of  most  of  the  political  vice  and  corrup- 
tion of  our  large  cities;  herein  lies  the  cause  of  our 
pinstituted  rights  of  hitjh-minded  and  honoral)le  s(df- 
gewiiiment;  herein  lies  the  cause  of  all  California's 
trouiiles  over  the  {)resence  of  the  Asiatics.  Instead  of 
<'ursiiig  the  Chinese  for  having  no  desire  to  nuiddle  in 
••Ml'  piilities,  we  had  better  curse  ourselves  for  vvvi  hav- 
ing allowed  the  negro  and  the  low  European  to  do  so. 

Pythagoras  divides  virtue  into  two  branches,  to 
"^(vk  truth  and  to  do  good;  whereupon  we  may  con- 
'ludi'  that  the  person  or  people  who  do  the  contrary 
itiv  vieious.      Nor  will  ignorance  or  inexperience  suf- 

KssAvs  AND  Miscellany    18 


h. 


<y 


^ 


'^U 


274 


TWO  RIDES  OF  A  VEXED  QUESTION. 


fice  as  a  ploa  for  wrong-doing.  The  immoralitios  of 
conventionalism  are  no  less  fatal  in  their  eti'ects  than 
the  immoralities  of  inherent  viciousness  and  del)a^('- 
ment.  Good  citizenship  comes  before  pleasurahln 
gratification  or  the  indulgence  of  tastes;  it  begins 
with  right  conduct  in  the  family,  and  ends  in  ri^Iit 
conduct  in  the  state.  All  rational  human  activities 
mav  be  ranged  under  three  classes,  thouuli  not 
wholly  separable:  those  which  tend  to  the  niaiiiti- 
nance  of  life,  those  which  tend  to  tlie  hiijfhest  snciai 
and  political  relations,  and  those  whicii  elevate  the 
tastes  and  gratify  the  feelings. 

No  doubt  many  of  the  champions  of  the  anti-Cliincsc 
cause  have  been  converted  through  their  own  [)er- 
sistcnt  and  dogmatical  assertions.  But  they  can 
hardly  help  knowing  that  the  arguments  they  u:-o 
in  su})port  of  the  cause  are  fallacious,  and  their  state- 
ments are  not  always  borne  out  by  the  facts.  A  dis- 
interested observer  cannot  but  feel  that  nine  tontlisof 
these  assertions  are  insincere,  or  if  those  who  utter 
them  really  believe  in  what  they  say,  then  is  tlie 
standard  of  intelligence  low  indeed,  while  hnnibnn'  ami 
hollow  cant  hold  in  subordination  our  politics,  our 
morals,  and  our  religion. 

It  is  not  the  Asiatic,  but  this  same  turbid  stream 
from  Europe  that  debases  our  blood,  discolors  our 
politics,  makes  of  republican  government  a  farce,  stirs 
up  strife,  and  lowers  the  standard  of  our  morals.  It 
is  not  the  Chinaman  who  does  this,  for  he  will  ii<«t 
mix  himself  up  in  these  affairs.  The  mule,  at  work 
upon  the  highway,  does  not  affect  our  standard  of 
morals,  no  matter  what  may  be  its  habits,  however 
filthy,  or  however  different  from  humanity.  So  witli 
the  Chinaman;  because  he  is  not  one  with  us,  because 
he  will  not  mingle  or  interfere  in  our  affairs,  be(  ausi 

•  •  •  1 

he  likes  his  own  gods  better  than  ours,  his  own  dicss. 
his  own  food,  his  own  customs — it  is  for  these  very 
reasons  that,  like  the  mule,  for  many  purposes,  he  is 
our  best  and  most  patient  drudge. 


FILTH  AXD  IMMORALITY. 


275 


In  regard  to  relative  morality;  it  is  by  no  means 
a  proved  proposition  that  the  Chinese  are  more  filthy, 
or  more  immoral  than  Europeans.  The  great  un- 
washed of  Europe  on  their  arrival  here  we  take  to  our 
hosoins;  come  election  day  we  give  them  rum  to 
dritik,  place  votes  in  their  hands,  install  them  in  the 
various  offices  of  our  government,  and  make  then.i  our 
masters.  And  thus  in  proporticm  as  we  elevate  them 
we  abase  ourselves.  With  regard  to  the  Chinese  it 
is  not  so.  In  the  presence  of  the  little  almond-eyed 
]ii'j;-iail  we  will  assert  our  great  American  manhood. 
He  shall  not  vote.  Ho  shall  not  sit  upon  the  benches 
of  our  supreme  courts  of  justice  ;  he  shall  not  be  our 
master.  Nay,  we  will  drive  him  from  our  shores  be- 
fore he  shall  do  any  of  these  things,  before  he  shall 
swallow  us  up,  before  this  little  pig-tail  sliall  swallow 
up  our  great  American  manhood  1 

The  Chinese  in  our  small  country  towns  are  no  more 
fifthy  in  their  habits  than  the  poor  people  there  of  other 
nationalities  ;  in  all  largecities  of  America  and  Europe 
there  arc  quarters  occupied  by  white  people  as  filthy 
ami  as  fever-breeding  as  any  of  the  Chinese  quarters. 
The  Chinese  do  not  steal,  or  kill,  or  connnit  adultery 
proportionately  more  than  white  people.  They  have 
soiiij  system  of  purchase  and  sale  of  women  for  vile 
]iur|)oses ;  is  that  any  worse  than  the  American  or 
Eur()p(>an  method  of  using  women  for  vile  purposes 
without  bargain  and  sale,  without  ownership  or  pro- 
tection, but  castinu:  them  out  as  men  tire  of  them  ? 
And  in  regard  to  opium;  will  any  one  for  a  moment 
maintain  that  this  drug  is  one  tenth  part  so  great  an 
evil  in  America  as  alcoholic  driidcs  and  tobacco? 

I  can  understand  how  the  politician,  })andering  to 
f  )tvign  votes,  whether  as  ])rovincial  demagogue  or 
statesman  standing  on  thf  floor  of  the  national  con- 
j,'resi^,  feels  called  upon,  whatever  may  be  his  tru(! 
opinion,  to  denounce  in  season  and  out  of  season  the 
pre^ieMce  of  Asiatics  in  America.  He  would  not  lonor 
ho  a  place-holder  otherwise.     Tlie    newspaper  Miat 


I'll' 


Hr 


276 


TWO  SIDES  OF  A  VEXED  QUESTION. 


does  not  energetically  and  persistently  denounce  tlie 
Chinese,  and  denounce  all  who  do  not  denounce  tliciii, 
and  that  without  regard  to  any  honest  opinion  of  tlio 
editor,  may  as  well  close  its  office.  Indeed  our 
teachers  and  preachers  are  all  personally  interested. 
If  they  speak  otherwise  than  against  the  Cliinose, 
thoy  could  not  retain  their  places  for  a  moment. 
But  that  the  intellicjent  masses  should  be  so  bounlit 
over,  shows  two  things — the  extent  and  quality  of 
their  intelligence,  and  also  what  effect  years  of  strong 
and  persistent  assertion  on  the  part  of  newspapers 
and  politicians  will  have  upon  the  public  mind. 

As  I  Iiave  said,  I  do  not  advocate  Asiatic  immiura- 
tion,  or  European,  or  African,  or  any  other  immigra- 
tion, if  only  the  lower  classes  come ;  I  advocate  here 
only  common-sense  and  common  honesty  in  dealing 
with  this  question.  I  would  urge  upon  our  leading 
men,  whether  of  the  press,  the  political  arena,  or  the 
counting-house,  to  stop  pandering  to  these  low  foreign 
voters  by  heaping  odium,  by  false  accusations,  updii 
a  class  less  ofl'ending,  less  meddlesome,  less  trouble- 
some, more  industrious,  and  in  many  other  respects 
better  than  their  persecutors,  and  whose  chief  crimes 
are  that  they  neither  vote  nor  read  the  newspapers. 

In  fine,  from  the  presence  of  Asiatics  in  America 
flow  essentially  the  same  benefits  and  evils  brought 
upon  a  superior  people  by  base  elements  from  any 
quarter.  Even  the  irresponsible  bachelorhood  applies 
to  large  groups  of  white  men.  As  the  low  European 
and  the  low  Asiatic  each  differ  in  mind  and  body,  in 
characteristics  and  customs,  so  their  effect  upon  us, 
our  society,  our  morals,  our  institutions,  our  agricul- 
ture, manufactures,  and  general  development  arc  each 
different  from  that  exercised  by  any  other  people; 
and  this  difference  is  one  of  kind  rather  than  of  extent. 

And  when  from  our  deep  debasement  wo  shall 
arise,  peradventure,  through  fire  and  blood,  and  plnc*^ 
under  our   feet  political  libertinism,  when  we  shall 


THE  NFAV  BY-LAWS. 


277 


restrict  the  ballot  within  wholesome  limits,  placing 
jiublic  affairs  in  the  hands  of  men  of  integrity  and  m- 
tclligence,  who  have  a  stake  in  the  community,  then 
should  we  write  in  the  by-laws  of  our  new  incorpora- 
ti(in: 

That  the  infusion  into  the  ranks  of  an  enlightened 
and  ])rogrcssive  people  of  any  foreign  facx  jiojmli,  or 
low  elciiient,  from  any  source,  is  debasing  to  the  su- 
|jerior  race. 

But  times  and  conditions  may  offer  counterbalancing 
advantages  rendering  their  presence  temporarily 
profitable. 

Ill  no  event,  however,  should  a  base  foreign  infusion 
lie  allowed  to  become  citizens,  or  to  participate  in  the 
government,  though  possibly  their  clarified  children 
may  bo  permitted  to  do  so. 

The  better  class,  the  educated,  the  able  and  enter- 
prii^ing,  the  wealthy,  we  n:ay  profitably  welcome. 

The  Chinese,  such  as  commonly  visit  our  shores, 
being  a  low  foreign  element,  their  ])resonce  is  injurious 
to  the  general  and  permanent  welfare  of  America, 

Africans  as  a  class  beuig  base-minded  and  un intel- 
lectual, their  presence  among  us  is  not  desirable. 

Th(!  influx  of  ignorant  and  low  Europeans  is  detri- 
mental to  the  highest  well-being  of  America. 

In  equity,  all  classes  of  our  population  should  receive 
corn^s])onding  attention  to  their  demands  for  restricted 
competitive  immigration,  and  no  nationality  should 
be  favored  above  another  in  the  exclusion. 


Having  reached  the  logical  ending  of  the  subject, 
we  might  let  it  there  rest.  But  it  will  not  rest. 
Tlicro  is  an  aspect  of  the  Chinese  question  outside  of 
pnlitirs,  outside  of  the  demands  of  other  foreigners  oi' 
tlicir  tools,  the  demagogues,  and  outside  of  any  social 
consideration.  We  may  theorize  as  to  what  might 
liave  })een,  or  what  ought  to  be  ;  at  the  same  time  we 
may  as  well  consider  what  must  be,  followin<j  the 
logic  of  necessity.     Returning  to  California,  and  view- 


278 


TWO  SIDES  OF  A  VEXED  QUESTION. 


ing  the  Chinese  question  from  the  quarter  where  tlie 
first  liollow  voice  of  office-seekers  and  politicians  vvas 
raised  against  them,  and  we  ask,  What  arc  we  to  do 
without  them? 

Take  from  CaHfornia  to-day  Chinese  labor  and  in- 
dustries will  become  paralyzed,  connnerce  become  sta"-- 
nant,  and  absolute  ruin  overspread  vast  agricultural 
areas.      So  long  and  so  loud  has  been  the  cry  tliut 
the  Chinese  nmst  go,  so  blinded  are  the  people  to 
the  most  vital  interests  of  the  commonwealth,  tliat 
they  will  not  sec  the  approaching  danger,  or  listen  to 
a  word   against  their  unreasonable  prejudices.     The 
time  will  come,  and  indeed  is  near  at  hand  when  tin  iv 
will  be  the  most  urgent  necessity  for  many  thousands 
of  additional  laborers.     For  unless  we  have  sevcal 
times  more  than  are  in  the  country  now,  we  may  as 
well  f.top  planting  trees,  as  there  will  be  no  one  to 
gather  the  fruit ;  we  may  as  well  abandon  at  once 
general  manufacturing,  and  all  those  important  indus- 
tries which  make  a  nation  prosperous,  and  sit  down 
satisfied  with  our  present  condition  with  no  liope  for 
future  progress — yet   not  our  present  position,  but 
infinitely  worse,  retrogression,  stagnation.     Our  land 
for  grain  is  worked-out;  wo  cannot  return  to  cattle- 
raising;  fruit-growing,  the  coming  chief  and  binlier 
industry,  will  alone  require  ten  times  as  many  lalmr- 
ers  as  are  in  the  state  at  present,  or  the  fruit  from  the 
trees  lately  planted  never  will  be  gathered. 

Where  are  the  laborers  essential  to  our  prosi)crity 
to  come  from  ?  Not  from  the  sons  of  the  soil ;  tlioy 
are  too  independent ;  they  are  employers,  or  ]al)or 
only  for  themselves  ;  the  few  who  will  hire  themselves 
out  do  not  figure  in  the  labor  market.  Not  from  tlio 
African,  who,  as  a  free  man  is  trifling,  lazy,  without 
ambition,  or  any  probable  intellectual  improvcuK nt,  a 
disgrace  to  the  country,  a  foul  stain  in  our  politics. 
His  place  is  in  the  south,  or  in  the  jungles  of  Afriea. 
Were  he  here  in  sufficient  numbers,  which  is  ik  ither 
probable  nor  by  any  means  desirable,  he  could  not  bo 


THE  POLICY  OF  NECESSITY. 


279 


depended  on  as  a  laborer  in  our  fields  and  manu- 
factories. Mexicans  and  Indians  of  course  are  not  to 
be  mentioned;  Mexico  is  paying  a  premium  for 
Cliiiicso  labor  to-day.  The  European  :  wc  have  tried 
him,  and  know  to  what  extent  and  in  wliat  ways  he 
can  and  cannf)t  be  depended  upon.  Socially  and 
|n«liti(ally  ambitious,  captious  in  liis  conceptions, 
wedded  to  his  cliuch  and  to  towns  and  cities,  from 
this  class  some  few  are  f;)und  to  work  as  mechanics, 
but  tlierc  are  not  enough  of  them  for  successful  manu- 
facturing, and  in  country  labor  they  are  but  an  incoa- 
sidcrahlo  factor. 

Wisely  or  unwisely  we  have  placed  ourselves  in  a 
30sitl()n  where  certain  work  has  to  be  done  to  avoid 
aiuciitable  consequences.  It  is  not  a  question  of 
lieatlieni.sm,  amalgamation,  politics,  popularity,  or 
what  will  please  other  foreigners;  we  requii'o  to 
liavj  our  fruit  gathered,  our  shoes  made,  our  wives 
relieved  from  the  heavier  household  drudgery ;  other- 
wise wo  will  have  to  take  long  steps  backward  in 
progress  and  prosperity,  and  organize  affairs  anew,  and 
on  a  basis  such  as  our  forefathers  should  have  done,  and 
arc  likely  enough  to  find  ourselves  worse  off  at  tlio  end 
of  another  century  than  at  present.  It  may  bo  that 
our  development  would  have  been  healthier  and  hap- 
pk  r  if  wo  had  invented  and  emp)loycd  less  machinery, 
but  we  cannot  tlirow  away  machines  now  v.lthout 
serious  inconvenience.  It  is  clearly  evident  tliat  the 
Cliinatnan  is  the  least  objectionable  of  any  human 
uiachlno  we  have  amomjr  us. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


THE  JURY  SYSTEM. 

For  twelve  honest  men  have  decided  the  cause, 
Who  are  judges  alike  of  the  facts  and  the;  laws. 

— PiiUency,  The  Honest  Jury. 

The  hungry  judges  soon  the  sentence  sign, 
And  wretches  hang  that  jurymen  may  dine. 


Do  not  your  juries  give  their  verdict 
As  if  they  felt  the  cauiso,  not  heard  it  7 


—Pope. 


—Iltulibras. 


in^Mi 


:l  !.:'r 


The  mind  of  man,  no  less  than  the  body,  is  born 
under  bonds.  Thick  black  clouds  of  ignorance  and 
superstition  encompass  and  overshadow  it  from  its  in- 
cipicncy.  Not  only  does  darkness  surround  it,  but 
the  lighli  of  past  ages  itself  gradually  merges  in  ob- 
scurity before  it.  It  sees  nothing,  feels  nothing,  hears 
nothing  aright.  Nature  it  misinterprets.  Of  its  own 
self,  its  character,  quality,  origin,  and  destiny,  it  knows 
little.  In  the  vain  search  for  its  maker  and  dominator, 
it  sends  forth  dismal  groans,  fills  earth,  sea,  and  sky 
with  fantastic  forms,  places  here  a  heaven  and  tlicrc 
a  hell,  and  in  every  thunder  cloud  and  sighing  breeze 
a  deity. 

To  emancipate  itself  from  this  thraldom  is  its 
eternal  struggle.  To  ascertain  truth  and  falsity,  the 
real  and  the  mythical,  is  progress.  Often  we  see 
portions  of  the  race  proceeding  far  in  some  directions 
while  lagging  behind  in  others.  Among  wise  men  we 
find  the  greatest  follies.  Nowhere  are  dis})laycd 
greater  absurdities  than  in  the  writings  of  the  ancient 
philosophers,  the  wisest  among  mankind  in  some 
things.     What  shall  we  say  of  men  capable  of  fair 

(280) 


OLD  AND  NEW  CONDITIONS. 


2S1 


reasoning  who  for  wounds  had  recourse  to  invocations, 
aii<l  for  the  gout  apphed  a  weasel's  tooth  wrapped  in 
lion  skin — though  the  doctors  gravely  quarreled,  some 
holding  that  the  covering  should  be  deer  skin? 
Coininon  to  every  nation  as  household  words  are 
many  such  absurdities,  to  say  nothing  of  the  multitu- 
dinous minor  superstitions  of  daily  domestic  life,  all  of 
w'hieli  luive  not  left  mankind  to  this  day. 

To  free  itself  from  the  constraining  covering  the 
mind  puts  on  when  first  perceiving  its  nakedness  is 
the  sum  of  all  aspirations,  the  end  of  all  activities. 
And  in  this  effort  to  escape  exposure,  often  it  employs 
divers  suits  and  makeshifts,  quickly  arraying  itself  in 
one  before  fairly  casting  off*  another.  In  jurispru- 
dence, and  medicine,  in  merchandising  and  industries, 
as  well  as  in  religion,  we  see  numberless  infatuations 
from  which  the  mhid  is  gradually  liberating  itself, 
and  ill  no  age  more  rapidly  than  the  present. 

Tlieso  several  makeshifts  were  not  always  unneces- 
sary. On  the  contrary  there  is  no  evil,  or  what  we 
of  to-day  call  evil,  or  any  subterfuge  under  which 
prooressive  peoples  have  sought  to  hide  their  intel- 
lectual nakedness,  or  any  protection  for  their  exposed 
condition  but  at  the  time  was  essential,  if  not  to  life 
it^ilf  at  least  to  progress.  Unable  all  at  once  to  cast 
oli'  its  sombre  raiment,  to  stand  forth  and  eye  om- 
nipotence, to  give  unrestricted  sway  to  expanding 
tiiou^lit,  the  nascent  intellect  must  blink,  and  stare, 
and  creep,  and  lisp  before  it  can  see  clearly,  walk 
firndy,  and  reason  intelligibly.  War,  worship,  slavery, 
usury,  and  the  like  were  once  superstitions,  were  once 
blessings. 

The  right  of  trial  by  jury  sprang  from  the  advance 
nf  physicid  and  intellectual  freedom.  Its  origin  was 
in  no  one  lime  or  place.  It  was  a  necessity  demanded 
in  the  dawi  ing  community  of  tyranny,  of  great-man 
Worship,  the  moment  the  mind  had  reached  a  certain 
point  in  its  progress.  For  several  thousand  years  it 
lias  done  good  service ;  but  like  many  evils  which  were 


282 


THE  JURY  SYSTEM. 


once  Wcssini^s,  society  can  now  safely  dispense  with 
it,  would  indeed  be  better  oti'  without  it.  The  clr- 
cunistunccs  which  called  it  into  bein^  have  chauft^d 
in  most  countries.  The  people  do  not  now  ]ia\ c  to 
ti^lit  with  the  sword  for  an  acknowledgment  of  tlif  ir 
rights  to  a  hearing  in  questions  of  law,  legisLitioii, 
and  government;  they  are  the  law  and  the  govcni- 
ment.  Between  tliein  and  the  judges  there  arc  not 
now,  as  formerly,  antagonisms;  the  judges  are  tlio 
servants  and  representatives  of  the  people,  and  not 
arbitrary  or  iiulcpendi'nt  rulers,  o[)posed  in  many 
respects  to  the  welfare  of  the  people.  Therefore,  as 
these  conditions  no  lonuer  exist,  the  necessities  and 
benefits  once  arislnjjf  from  them  no  loriiier  accrue. 
Progressive  peoples  may  therefore  look  at  the  system 
of  trial  hy  jury  apait  from  past  benefits,  considering 
alone  its  present  usefulness,  and  in  so  doing,  douhtlcss 
we  shall  find  that  the  system  may  now  be  safely 
end)alined. 

Under  the  patriarchal  regime  the  pater  fannlias 
was  absolute  ruler  and  the  sole  arbiter  of  disputes. 
Revenge,  or  the  personal  vindication  of  wrongs,  was 
the  primitive  idea  of  justice;  public  crimes,  and  |iulilic 
punishment  of  crime  were  a  later  development.  \\\)vn 
patriarchal  and  roving  bands  united  as  nations  and 
assumed  despotism,  with  its  attendant  great-man  wor- 
ship, of  necessity  courts  were  established;  but  the 
jury  must  not  be  confounded  with  the  court,  as  is  too 
often  done  by  legal  writers.  Jurors  are  no  part  of  tlie 
court.  They  consist  of  members  of  the  community 
summoned  to  ascertain  the  facts  in  a  disputed  ca^o.  to 
which  the  judge  applies  the  law  and  delivers  sentence. 
When  these  chosen  citizens  have  pronounced  ou  tlie 
facts,  they  can  return  to  their  several  vocations,  lia\  in*]; 
thenceforth  nothing  more  to  do  with  the  court  tJmn 
others.  While  England  was  not  wholly  ignorant  of 
the  jury  principle,  the  judicium  dei  and  other  ordeals 
and  divinations  were  in  vogue,  in  which  fire,  water, 
and  red-hot  ploughshares  played  conspicuous  parts. 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  SYSTEM. 


288 


ei'c  arc  not 


It  was  not  many  centuries  aj^o  that  any  acknowl- 
e(];j,iiieiit  by  a  ruler  of  personal  inherent  rights  among 
the  govinied  was  a  great  gain.  Since  the  concessions 
wrung  from  despotism  by  tlie  magna  charta,  trial  by 
juiv  has  l)een  regarded  as  an  inestimable  boon,  insep- 
ma])lc;  from  free  institutions.  So  sacredly  was  this 
t.:(iitini(Mit  revered, which  thus  secured  to  every  arc  used 
Englisliman  the  judgment  of  his  peers,  the  venlitt  of 
a  jury,  or  the  law  of  the  land,  that  Lord  Camden 
adopted  as  his  motto  the  quotation  from  the  great 
cliiirter,  "Judicium  parium  aut  leges  terra)." 

But  long  before  magna  charta  was  trial  by  jury. 
Iiulcetl,  in  all  civilized  nations,  before  the  existence  of 
regular  codes,  or  of  any  theory  of  jurisprudciu  e,  wo 
find  the  germ  of  the  present  jury  system,  sine  e  de- 
veloped and  moulded  to  meet  the  exigencies  of  time 
and  place.  The  system  then  has  not  one  origin  alone 
but  many.  Its  appearing  was  spontaneous,  and  not 
the  result  of  an}'  act  of  king  or  parliament.  To  the 
dicasts  of  Athens,  to  the  corresponding  judices  of 
Rome,  to  the  Rachinburgen  or  Scabini  of  tlie  conti- 
nent, to  the  compurgators  of  the  Saxons,  to  the  Nor- 
wegian Gulathing,  to  the  Geschworncn-Geri(  Itte  of 
Germany,  to  the  sectatores  and  pares  of  feudalism, 
and  to  other  sources  the  system  ptdnts  for  its  origin. 
Under  the  systems  of  ancient  Greece  and  Rome  we 
see  much  in  common  with  our  own. 

Tlie  body  selected  from  the  dicasts  of  Athens  for 
hearing  and  determining  causes  numbered  sometimes 
five  hundred  jurors  for  a  single  case.  A  Scandina- 
vian tribunal  was  usually  composed  of  twelve  or  some 
multiple  of  twelve.  Over  the  dicasts  presided  an 
ar(  lion ;  other  deliberative  assemblages  had  no  pre- 
siding judge.  There  was  a  time  when  at  a  Roman 
trial  the  jury  sat  alone.  No  praetor  or  other  officer 
pri  sided  to  regulate  prbceedings  and  determine  points 
of  law,  but  in  every  jury  was  one  or  more  lawyers 
who  lent  their  aid  to  reach  a  verdict. 

The  deliberations  of  such  tribunals  as  the  Athenian 


284 


THE  JURY  SYSTEM. 


n 


okklf'sia  and  the  Roman  coniitia  were  irregular,  often 
violent,  and  tlieir  decisions  were  the  results  ot'apptiiU 
to  feeling  rather  than  to  tixtd  prineiidcs.  Tumultu- 
ous bodies  of  freemen  having  no  presiding  judge, 
goverruid  by  no  rule  or  precedcnit,  were  poor  placus 
for  justice.  The  first  iimovation  on  this  metliod  of 
adjud'cation  in  England  was  the  introduction  by  tlie 
Nonniins  of  judges  familiar  with  the  forms  of  regu- 
lar ])roce(lure  as  practised  in  lion)an  tribunals. 

The  right  of  trial  by  jury  comes  to  Englishnioii 
more  directly  in  the  form  of  a  victory.  During  ilic 
dark  centuries,  prerogative  or  despotism  denied  sucli 
a  ri'>ht.  Thouii'h  in  England  under  the  Tudors  iiiifl 
Stewarts  the  i)ractice  obtained  for  the  most  pait  us  at 
present,  yet  the  popular  pulse  was  then  too  low  U> 
baffle  the  subtleties  of  the  royal  prerogative,  or  of 
learned  malevolence.  But  later,  with  increase  t)f  in- 
tellectual strength  and  material  stability,  the  juoplc 
intrenched  themselves  in  their  riohts,  and  since  the 
magna  charta  this  privilege  has  been  held  the  dcai'cst 
of  a  progressive  people.  It  was  a  right  guarded  with 
vigilant  care,  and  for  which  intelliii-ent  freemen  eveiv- 
where  would  fight  and  die.  To  America  came  tliis 
sentiment,  and  was  embodied  in  the  constitutions  of 
the  several  states. 

The  victory  originally  achieved  by  the  peopl  over 
the  government  by  the  establishment  of  the  jury 
system  was  the  right  of  participation  in  the  adminis- 
tration of  the  law.  No  man  might  thenceforth  be 
jeopardized  in  person  or  property  without  appeal  to 
his  fellows  for  redress.  It  was  a  sign  of  the  iiicnas- 
ing  purity  of  political  character,  and  growing  love  of 
honesty  and  fair  play.  When  the  government  and 
the  people  were  one  the  victory  was  complete. 

As  with  hero  worship,  the  system  with  age  and 
adulation  became  apotheosized  ;  since  which  time  men 
have  thoughtlessly  and  blindly  worshipped  it  as  com- 
jilete,  God-given,  and  eternal, — the  English  jurist, 
Adam,  terming  it  "  of  a  perfection  so  absolute  that  it 


mONY  OF  JURY-JUSTICE. 


288 


lias  remained  in  unabated  rigor  from  its  commencc- 
imiit  to  tlio  present  time." 

Often  wlicn  the  jury  deeided  contrary  to  tlio  wislics 
of  the  kinn;,  or  rendered,  in  tlie  o[)ini()n  of  the  judge, 
an  ini[)r(»per  verdict,  they  were  punislied;  therein  tlio 
irony  of  ancient  jury -just  ice  displays  itself  in  scarcely 
ji'ss  degree  than  in  modern  jury-justice,  where  mein- 
lurs  of  a  jury  decide  as  th(>y  choose,  witliout  any  fear 
of  punishment  from  God  or  man.  Many  cases  might 
1)0  cited — instance  tlie  Throckmorton  trial,  in  which 
three  of  the  jurors  were  adjudged  to  pay  each  two 
thousand  pounds,  and  the  rest  two  hundred  pounds 
oarli;  the  trial  at  tlio  Old  Bailey  in  1070  of  Penn  and 
Mead,  in  which  the  jurors  were  fined  forty  marks 
( acli  and  imprisoned  till  they  paid,  and  others  of  sim- 
ilar significance.  IMany  cases  are  on  record  where 
the  jury  were  convicted  of  perjury,  forced  to  retract, 
and  heavily  fined  or  imprisonc  ;.  In  a  land  case  aris- 
ill^'  under  William  the  Conqueror,  between  the  crown 
and  the  church,  the  jury  first  found  for  the  king,  and 
afterward  acknowledged  rendering  a  wrong  decision. 
Such  was  the  palladium  of  English  liberty  at  that 
tinu'. 

"It  is  not  trial  by  jury  that  produces  justice,"  says 
Herbert  Spencer,  "but  it  is  the  sentiment  of  justice 
that  produces  trial  by  jury,  as  the  organ  through 
which  it  is  to  act;  and  the  organ  will  be  inert  unless 
the  sentiment  is  there." 

Trial  by  jury  means,  as  Blackstone  says,  that  a  man 
"cannot  be  affected  either  in  his  property,  his  libert}--, 
or  I  lis  person,  but  by  the  unanimous  consent  of  twelve 
of  his  neighbors  and  equals."  If  it  is  intended  that 
this  sentiment  should  be  construed  literally,  then  like 
niaiiv  legal  maxims,  a<xe  is  its  greatest  merit.  Of  all 
men  one's  neighbors  arc  least  capable  of  judging  fairly, 
are  most  liable  to  prejudice  for  or  against  the  accused. 
To  those  nearest  us  we  are  never  indiflferent ;  we  ara 
apt  cither  to  love  or  hate  them.  One  remove,  and 
tiie  feeling  still  exists,  though  not  in  so  intense  a  form. 


28G 


THE  JURY    SYSTEM 


U::i 


"  ■,'  5 


I'    -It 


On  local  questions  the  popular  mind  is  always  more 
or  loss  inflamed. 

The  arguments,  or  rather  the  palpable  cvidonrc  in 
favor  of  trial  by  jury,  arc  protection  from  arlntraiy  or 
despotic  rule,  protection  from  biased  or  unjust  judges, 
representation  by  the  people  in  the  administratidu  of 
justifG,  the  recognized  right  of  judgment  by  oik/h 
peei's,  to  which  we  might  add  the  blessings  arising  l)v 
virtue  of  habeas  corpus,  and  the  advantage  of  c(jiiiiv 
from  a  standpoint  of  moral  law  and  custom  to  ollsit 
the  liarshness  and  errors  of  technical  rulinu;.  It  ( in- 
bodies  the  sentiment  of  fairness.  It  secures  t<»  iIk 
citizen  a  feeling  of  safety  in  his  rights  which  caiiiidt 
be  disturbed  by  any  fanaticism  or  malice.  If  accused 
he  may  be  sure  of  the  same  impartiality  from  liis 
neiglibors  that  he  stands  ever  read}'  to  mete  out  to 
them.  Furthermore,  following  M.  de  Tocquevillc.  it 
is  an  ever-open  school  instructing  the  citizen  in  lii> 
legal  rights,  giving  manliness  to  character,  and  clnth- 
ing  tlie  citizen  with  a  magisterial  dignity.  It  draws 
the  individual  from  his  selfishness,  which  is  tlic  rust 
of  society,  and  compels  him  to  occupy  his  mind  i'c'i 
the  moment  with  other  than  liis  own  aflairs.  To 
which  might  be  added  that  it  keeps  the  doings  oftlio 
court  directly  under  the  eye  of  the  people,  and  faiiiil- 
iarizes  them  with  judicial  proceedings  and  the  admin- 
istration of  justice,  keeps  ever  before  them  their  duty 
and  responsibility  as  members  of  a  free  and  enliulit 
ened  commonwealth.  It  surrounds  the  rights  of  lili 
erty  v;ith  the  strongest  safe-guards,  and  strips  fioin 
judgment  bigotry  and  legal  technicality. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  system  is  not  without  its 
evils,  which  at  the  present  day,  and  in  countries  m  itli 
repres(Mitative  governments,  more  than  counterbalance 
all  its  benefits. 

The  principle  of  the  right  of  represents  lion  in  niK 
ministering  justice  is  no  longer  pertinent  as  an  argu- 
ment in  the  case,  for  the  judge  is  now  as  murh  tlic 
representative  of  the  people  in  courts  of  justice  as  the 


THE  BENEFITS  OF  DESPOTISM. 


287 


jurv.  Courts,  people,  judge,  and  jury  arc  one,  so  far 
0.;  jiower  and  representation  arc  concerned.  As  to  its 
fairness,  one,  or  three  good  men  may  be  as  fair  as 
turlve  Li;(H)d  men,  and,  indeed,  experience  proves  that 
in  iiuuibers  is  confusion  ratlier  than  clearer  judgment. 
]\lcyer  and  otliers,  while  wannly  upholding  the 
system  as  applied  to  criminal  cases,  denounce  it  in  tlie 
sti'Migest  terms  in  civil  practice.  And  yet  I  find  no 
annnnents  against  the  one  which  will  not  apply  equally 
to  the  other.  In  fact,  so  glaring  are  the  evils  of  it  in 
criminal  cases,  so  rank  the,  iniquity  arising  therefrom, 
that  if  it  could  bo  discarded  only  in  one  I  should  prc- 
fe:-  to  see  that  branch  of  jurisorudence  relieved  in 
pit'fercnce  to  the  otlier. 

Every  good  government  is  based  upon  despotism. 
Tiie  weakest  and  most  worthless  of  all  govermnents 
is  that  wliich  depends  alone  upon  its  constitufi(»n  and 
statutes  for  support.  A  single  despot,  if  he  be  wise 
and  good,  governing  with  unlimited  power,  is  the 
stiMngcst,  best,  and  most  economical  of  all  govern- 
nimts.  Such  rule  is  most  natural,  and  best  accords 
v.ith  man's  conceptions  of  supernatural  rule.  God  is 
God,  and  Christ  or  Mahomet  is  his  pro])hct.  He  is 
thi-  one  only  all-wise  and  beneficent  ruler  of  the  uni- 
vorso.  The  forces  of  nature  appear  more  conHicting, 
yi't  one  harmony  pervades  the  wliole.  Tliis  world 
\va-^  not  governed  tliesc  thousands  of  vears  bv  tvrants 
ami  (l('.s[)ot3  for  nothing.  Republics,  in  particular, 
sliDuld  beware  of  the  rule  of  the  rabble. 

Xcxt  to  the  single  despot  is  the  despotism  of  the 
^v]l(!!^';  that  is  to  say  where  the  governed,  in  their 
sevi'i'al  castes,  classes,  occupations,  and  interests,  are 
go  tlioroughly  united  in  sentiment  and  ]  iirpose  as  to 
oniistitutc^  one  body,  with  one  mind,  arbitrary  and  ab- 
solute. This  is  the  republican  form  of  despotism ;  and 
a  ro])ublic  without  this  species  of  despotism  is  the 
saddest  of  all  pictures.  In  vigilance,  in  that  rigid 
patriotism  which  sinks  self  in  the  general  well-being 


288 


THE  JURY  SYSTEM. 


I «" ; 


m 


II  if . 


.1; 


¥■  i''. 


of  society,  we  see  more  vividly  than  elsewhere  the 
part  wliicli  discipline,  and  that  rellection  which  accdin- 
panie.s  responsibility,  play  in  securini^  the  seU'-rc  liaiice 
which  iin[»arts  soundness  to  the  de.sposition  of  the 
united  masses.  Tlic  value  :.  \d  utility  of  despotism 
depend  upon  the  moral  character,  the  political  poise, 
and  tlie  social  ori^anization  of  the  people.  As  Horace 
expresses  it,  "Quid  leges,  sine  moribus  vanae  jno- 
ficiunt?" 

Aj)ply  these  principles  and  virtues  to  the  adminis- 
tration of  justice,  and  leave  it  in  the  hands  of  properly 
vested  desi)otism,  instead  of  surrendering  it  to  luijt- 
liazard  and  vacillatino-  i<Tnorance.  So  lonn"  as  it  is 
necessarv  for  men  to  flight  for  their  riolits  and  liber- 
ties,  let  them  fight,  but  to  thrust  at  the  carcass  and 
beat  the  air  long  after  the  enemy  is  dead  is  not  wise. 
Nor  is  it  at  this  late  day  an  argument  in  favor  of  any 
polity  or  creed  that  it  has  been  in  force  for  cciituiic?'. 
Ago  no  longer  lends  reason  or  respectability  to  cnor. 

We  arc  taught  to  regard  with  horror  the  picture 
of  a  murderer  in  prison  with  a  weapon  or  with  poison 
taking  his  own  life.  Prison-keepers  are  held  respon- 
sible for  the  lives  of  those  the  law  reserves  for  its  ex- 
amples; and  if  unluckily  the  criminal  commits  suicide, 
and  so  cheats  the  gallows,  censure  follows. 

There  are  ditferent  lights  in  which  any  subject  ni;iy 
be  regarded.  This  popular  idea  of  so  carefully  l»rc- 
serving  life  in  order  to  take  it  artistically,  legally,  or 
for  the  entertainment  or  instruction  of  some,  and  as  a 
warning  to  others,  is  not  without  its  superstition.  It 
is  another  of  these  cases  in  which  the  same  result  is 
obtained  as  when  the  law  acts,  but  the  law  would  not 
have  its  acts  anticipated.  If  the  law  were  a  lit;h' 
more  particular  in  arresting  and  punishing  all  who  de- 
served it,  there  might  be  better  reason  to  eom[)lain  of 
infringements  upon  its  monopoly.  As  the  case  ]>re- 
aents  itself,  the  murderer  in  prison  suffering  the  men- 
tal tortures  incident  to  the  commission  of  his  nime, 
as  an  act  of  humanity  to  himself,  a  sentiment  the  law 
indulges   when  not  in  conflict  with  traditions,  may 


THE  HARI-KARI  IN  AMERICA. 


2S9 


naturally  wisli  to  anticipate  the  law's  punishment. 
Or  ho  may  consider  his  crime  sufficiently  atoned,  and 
ill  tlio  desire  to  avoid  further  ignominy,  kill  himself. 
True,  there  is  something  repulsive  in  the  idea  of 
(pi\  iiig  the  cnminal  in  his  cell  a  knife  or  a  pistol  with 
IHrmission  to  slay  himself;  but  there  is  also  much 
that  is  abhorrent  in  legal  executions.  We  are  told 
tliat  the  purpose  of  the  law  is  to  make  a  solemn  ex- 
uniiilc,  not  a  revengeful  or  passionate  manslaughter; 
but  what  could  be  more  solemn,  were  we  accustomed 
to  look  at  it  from  that  side,  than  the  felon  by  his  own 
act  satisfying  justice,  stepping  of  his  own  volition  into 
the  inniiediate  presence  of  his  maker,  appealing  at 
(Hire  to  the  higher  tribunal.  Such  proceeding  has 
>;urf']y  some  things  in  its  favor.  It  saves  the  prisoner 
iiiucli  anxiety  ;  it  satisfies  justice  ;  it  saves  the  people 
much  trouble;  the  example  is  every  whit  the  same. 
Xcvertlieless  I  am  by  no  means  desirous  of  seeing  the 
liiiri-lriri,  or  happy  dispatch  princijile  of  Japan,  in  gen- 
eral jtractice  in  America,  unless  as  there,  it  be  confined 
to  (ijlicials,  when  it  would  doubtless  have  a  very  good 
ctFcct,  the  officers  of  the  government  beimj  then  oblii:;ed 
to  eviscerate  themselves  whenever  the  people,  that  is 
to  say  the  ruling  power,  ordered  it  done. 

It  is  the  province  and  duty  of  a  jury  to  hear  the 
ovideiice,  weigh  the  testimony,  judge  the  credibility 
(if  Avituesses,  and  determine  the  facts  in  the  case. 
Tlieso  functions  nmst  be  exercised  under  tiic  directit)n 
(if  the  judge,  who  ij)m  faclo  is  better  qualified  to  jiass 
u[)nii  all  the  points  himself  than  those  to  whom  they 
are  submitted. 

It  is  plainly  apparent  that  men  ignorant  of  the  law 
are  incapable  of  judging  In'  tlie  law.  But  may  we  not 
pi  a  step  farther  and  affirm  that  as  society  increases, 
and  civil  afl'airs  become  more  intricate,  and  the  ma- 
iiijtulations  of  law  become  a  science,  persons  chosen 
indiscriminately,  without  regard  to  qualification  or 
expc  rieiice,  are  less  competent  to  deal  with  questions 

KSSAYS  AND  MlHfEM.ANY       V.) 


i'1  :•■;!''  U; 


290 


THE  JURY  SYSTEM. 


arising  in  courts,  with  guilt  and  evidence  of  guilt,  and 
with  the  several  biases  the  custom  of  courts  permits 
to  be  thrown  around  them,  than  those  trained  bv 
thoughtful  study  and  constant  experience  to  the  task  ? 
Then  again,  the  wrong  decision  of  a  judge,  involvinir 
reputation,  and  an  honorable  life-position,  is  far  more 
to  him  who  renders  it,  than  in  the  case  of  the  careless 
or  indifferent  citizen,  forced,  it  may  be  from  his  l)usi- 
ness  against  his  will,  and  where  the  responsibility  and 
odium  of  a  biased  or  passionate  decision  is  divided 
among  twelve. 

As  in  all  matters  relative  to  social  and  politiial 
etliics,  practice  is  totally  at  variance  with  purpose. 
Take  twelv^e  intelligent  men,  enlightened  by  experi- 
ence, accustomed  to  close  analysis  of  intricate  subjects 
and  to  the  subtleties  of  argument,  who  will  form  their 
verdict  from  the  evidence  alone  and  after  calm  and 
close  reflection,  unbiassed  by  education,  interest,  pride, 
sympathy  or  any  other  sentiment  or  feeling,  and  they 
no  doubt  would  prove  of  assistance  to  a  judge.  But 
never  did  twelve  such  men  sit  as  jurors  in  a  case,  and 
never  will  there  be  such  i  jury.  The  judge  himself 
comes  nearer  the  proper  qualifications  than  the  jury. 

Not  half  the  jurymen  who  serve,  chosen  as  they 
arc  from  among  our  free  and  enlifjhtened  American 
citizens,  have  adequate  ideas  of  their  duties.  They 
may  know  they  are  to  sit  upon  a  bench  and  listen  to 
the  proceedings  in  court,  and  after  that  retire  to  .a 
room  and  say  guilty  or  not  guilty.  They  may  e\  ( n 
remember  to  have  been  told  that  while  the  judge  will 
expound  to  them  the  law  they  are  to  determine  the 
facts.  But  do  they  know,  when  rendering  tlieir  de- 
cision, upon  what  they  base  it?  Do  they  know 
whether  they  are  deciding  upon  law,  facts,  or  feelinLjs? 

Not  one  juror  in  fifty  has  any  true  realization  of  his 
position,  or  what  he  has  sworn  to  do ;  or  if  aware  of 
it  he  does  not  care.  He  does  not  stop  to  consider 
that  to  free  the  guilty  is  as  bad  as  to  commit  the 
deed ;  that  to  acquit  a  murderer  is  as  bad  as  to  com- 


THE  CRIME  OF  THE  JUROR. 


291 


mit  murder — nay,  that  the  moral  effect  upon  the  com- 
munity is  worse,  for  to  let  escape  one  criminal  is  to 
invito  a  hundred  others  to  become  criminals.  To 
prevent  crime,  punishment  must  be  certain ;  and  not 
to  prevent  crime,  when  it  lies  in  one's  power,  is  to 
commit  crime.  Or  as  Seneca  says,  "Cui  prodest 
scolus,  is  fecit." 

It  does  not  matter  how  excellent  may  be  our  judges, 
or  how  perfect  our  code  of  laws,  so  long  as  questions 
of  fact  even  are  left  to  a  jury,  no  litigant,  innocent  or 
guilty,  can  know  where  he  stands.  It  has  become  a 
by-word,  that  of  all  earthly  things  a  jury  is  the  most 
uncertain.  And  yet  men  reverentially  cling  to  this 
sliadow  of  support  as  to  one  of  the  greatest  props  of 
liberty. 

In  early  Saxon  times  jurors  were  witnesses  as  well 
as  judges,  and  determined  the  law  as  well  as  the  facts. 
Members  of  the  tribunal  were  selected  from  the 
iieigliborhood  where  the  crime  was  committed,  and 
tlio  more  a  juror  knew  of  the  affair  the  more  compe- 
tent was  he  to  serve.  The  principle  of  fama  publica 
entered  largely  into  jurisprudence,  side  by  side  with 
coin  purgation  by  oath,  and  divers  other  divinations. 
At  the  present  day  any  knowledge  of  a  case  is  deemed 
undesirable.  Ignorance  of  the  facts  is  a  recommenda- 
tion for  acceptance  as  a  juror;  yet  it  is  knowledge  alone 
u])on  which  rational  judgment  is  formed,  and  surely 
tlie  evidence  of  one's  own  senses  is  as  direct  and  con- 
clusive as  that  obtained  through  the  senses  of 
another. 

The  sainted  twelve  must  1  'ocile,  and  profoundly 
impressed  with  the  dignity  of  judges,  the  learning  of 
counsel,  and  the  sacredness  of  law.  A  keen  practi- 
tioner deems  his  cause  half  won  when  he  has  his  judge 
and  jury  satisfactorily  selected  and  seated  before  him. 
Then  comes  lofty  declamation,  liighly  seasoned  ap- 
peals, long  and  elaborate  arguments,  humor  and  pathos. 

TJic  fictitious  sentiment  of  privilege,  inseparable  in 


292 


THE  JURY  SYSTEM. 


ii- '■''■'  '•,{ 


tliG  minds  of  a  lilierty-loving  people  from  trials  by 
jury,  is  no  less  gratifying  to  the  law,  whose  otiictrs 
thereby  have  an  opportunity  for  a  display  of  leain'mg 
and  skill  not  otherwise  within  their  reach,  than  to  the 
citizens  of  the  commonwealth,  who  fancy  thenisc  1a  c  s 
to  be  the  court,  and  that  justice  can  be  administcrc  d 
only  by  themselves.  Anyone  cognizant  with  tlio 
manner  by  which  a  trial  is  determined  in  the  juvv- 
room  can  know  upon  how  frail  a  foundation  this  latter 
idea  rests. 

In  impartial  results,  trials  by  jury  are  little  changed 
since  the  days  of  Cicero.  In  his  treatise  on  Oratory 
one  might  almost  imagine  him  speaking  of  a  modern 
court  of  justice.  "  ]\len  are  influenced  in  their  ver- 
dicts," he  says,  "much  more  by  prejudice,  or  ftivor,  or 
greed  of  gain,  or  anger,  or  indignation,  or  pleasure, 
or  hope,  or  fear,  or  by  misapprehension,  or  by  pome 
excitement  of  their  feelings,  than  either  by  the  facts 
of  the  case,  or  by  established  precedents,  or  by  .iny 
rules  or  principles  whatever,  either  of  law  or  equity." 

'*It  is  lawful  for  you  to  use  j'our  gifts,"  said  Sir 
Nicholas  Throckmorton  to  his  prosecutor  wlnn  on 
trial  for  high  treason  in  1554,  and  better  had  not  such 
use  of  gifts  been  lawful,  "which  I  know  God  liath 
largely  given  you,  as  your  learning,  wit,  and  eloquence, 
so  as  thereby  you  do  not  seduce  the  minds  of  tlie 
simple  and  unlearned  jury  to  credit  matters  otherwise 
than  they  be.  For,  ^Master  Sergeant,  I  know  liow 
by  persuasions,  enforcements,  presumptions,  applyinu', 
implying,  inferring,  conjecturing,  deducing  of  argu- 
ments, wrestling  and  exceeding  the  law,  the  circum- 
stances, the  depositions,  and  confessions,  unlearned 
men  may  be  enchanted  to  think  and  judge  those  tliat 
be  things  indiftcront,  or  at  the  worst  oversights,  to  l»o 
great  treasons;  such  power  orators  have,  and  sucli 
ignorance  the  unlearned  have." 

The  special  province  of  the  jury  lawyer  is  to  move 
to  mercy,  to  produce  upon  the  minds  of  his  liearcrs 
impressions  favorable  to  the  character  and  conduct  of 


DISHONESTY  OR  INCOMPETENCY. 


293 


the  accused,  that  he  may  appear  to  them  a  good  but 
uiifoi'tuiuite  man,  deservnig  of  generous  pity,  rather 
than  a  social  viper  such  as  lie  truly  is. 

Under  this  system  the  worst  element  in  the  com- 
munity is  preserved,  and  at  the  expense  of  the  best. 
Tho  wicked  prosper  in  their  wickedness,  while  the 
virtuous  are  slain  for  their  virtues. 

"Judex  damnatur  cum  nocens  absolvitur,"  says 
Publius  Syrus.  This  is  the  dark  side  of  the  jury 
svstiMU.  It  is  very  seldom  that  a  jury  brings  in  a 
verdict  of  guilty  where  the  accused  is  innocent;  but 
it  is  very  common  for  them  to  fail  to  convict  where 
guilt  is  })lainly  a}>parent.  In  answer,  we  fall  back 
upon  the  amiable  position  that  it  is  better  to  err  upon 
the  side  of  mercy,  that  it  is  better  ten  guilty  should 
escape  than  one  innocent  be  punished.  This  is  not  an 
altogether  sound  maxim.  The  injustice  is  as  great 
which  clears  the  guilty  as  that  which  punishes  tlie 
innocent,  whatever  may  be  the  humanity  or  sentiment 
of  the  case.  Nevertheless,  we  would  not  punish  tlie 
innocent;  neither  would  we  let  the  guilty  go.  Nor  is 
it  necessary.  If  juries,  since  these  thousand  years  of 
trial,  still  find  compassion  overpowering  duty,  they 
had  l)etter  step  aside  and  make  room  for  judges  of 
sterner  stuff,  in  the  direction  of  whose  certain  judg- 
ments lies  the  true  economy  of  mercy. 

Frequently  jurors,  when  they  first  retire,  stand 
eiglit  or  ten  to  four  or  two.  Then  begins  the  work 
of  conversion,  and  the  minority  are  badgered  by  the 
majority  until  finally  opinion  and  conscience  are  sac- 
rificed by  the  former,  who  do  contrar^'  to  what  they 
hav(;  sworn  to  do.  This  is  the  process  in  the  jury-room, 
and  this  the  perjury  which  is  undergone  in  four  fifths 
of  trials  by  jury 

The  merest  accident  often  determines  the  decision 
of  a  juror.  Enterimj:  a  room  with  eleven  others, 
some  of  whom  are  strangers,  with  the  mind  oscillating 
between  the  ariruments  inijcniouslv  urcjed  on  either 
side,  the  weak-minded  juror  would  often  rather  jump 


294 


TIIE  JURY  SYSTEM. 


illi 
iS1i 


at  any  conclusion  than  appear  to  have  no  substantial 
convictions.  Hesitancy  and  suspense  under  such  cir- 
cumstances are  no  less  painful  to  him  than  to  his  com- 
panions, and  many  times  the  word  and  the  vote  of 
some  strong-minded,  dogmatic  juror  influences  tlic 
next  vote,  those  two  the  next,  and  so  on  until  the 
whole  twelve  are  brought  to  ballot,  not  in  accordaiicf 
with  their  own  private  and  well-considered  views,  but 
in  such  a  manner  as  will  best  give  them  the  appearance 
before  their  fellows  of  prompt,  well-opinionated,  and 
decisive  men 

Modest  or  sensitive  persons,  finding  themselves  in 
a  minority,  suspect  the  validity  of  their  opinions,  and 
hasten  to  recant  and  join  the  opposite  side.  But  tliis 
is  not  judging  honestly,  considerately,  Oi'  according  to 
oath.  Few  like  to  appear  ungracious  or  obstinate, 
and  will  forswear  themselves  sooner  than  seem  obnox- 
iously conspicuous.  Thus  it  is  in  almost  every  jury, 
tliere  are  those  who  yield  their  honest  opinion  to  the 
force  of  circumstance,  just  as  in  society  fear  of  one's 
fellows  is  more  terrible  tlian  the  fear  of  government 
or  of  God. 

This  is  the  reason  why  comparatively  few  juries 
fail  to  find  a  verdict  althoufjh  men  so  seldom  ay;ree  on 
any  one  point.  The  jurors  do  not  all  of  them  vote  in 
accordance  with  the  oath  which  they  have  taken,  do 
not  vote  their  honest  opinion,  do  not  vote  justly  ac- 
cording to  the  evidence  as  they  have  sworn  to  vt)te. 
Individual  obligation  is  shirked,  and  the  palladium  of 
all  our  liberties  becomes  a  puppet-show,  with  consent 
and  connivance  of  the  judge,  who  may  keep  jurors  of 
different  minds  imprisoned  in  a  room  until  the  work 
of  coercion  is  accomplished. 

If  the  jury  system  be,  indeed,  a  further  necessity, 
then  a  majority  should  be  permitted  to  find  a  verdict. 
There  is  no  advantage  in  the  enforced  unanimitv  of 
twelve  blockheads,  and  often  great  wrong  is  done. 
In  the  large  assemblages  of  Greece  and  Rome  a  ma- 
jority  found  the  verdict;  and  in  the  Scandinavian 


ENFORCED  UNANIMITY. 


2M 


and  Teutonic  nations  tlie  agreement  of  tlie  majority 
ohtaiiud.  In  Scotland,  after  an  inetlcctual  three 
hour's'  deliberation,  nine  jurors  may  find  a  verdict,  but 
ill  jOiigland  unanimity  in  a  traverse  jury  has  prevailed 
from  the  earliest  times. 

A  forced  unanimity  is  absurd  upon  the  face  of  it. 
There  never  yet  were  found  on  earth  a  dozen  intclli- 
o;eiit,  tlioughtful  men  who  fully  agreed  on  every  point. 
What  folly  then  for  a  court  of  law  to  force  men  by 
starvation  and  other  coercive  measures  to  break  their 
oath  and  render  a  verdict  which  may  be  contrary  to 
their  conviction.  Perjury  is  the  result  of  such  unan- 
imity, and  the  sin  of  it  is  to  be  laid  at  the  door  of  the 
law.  Admit  the  jury  system  a  necessity,  and  the  re- 
quirement of  unanimity  yet  remains  a  foul  blot  ui)on 
our  legal  practice.  Aside  from  the  objections  already 
stated  it  gives  one  evil-minded  or  obstinate  juror  the 
power  to  invalidate  a  righteous  verdict,  and  set  at 
iiauglit  the  efforts,  perhaps,  of  eleven  honest  men 
laburing  in  the  ends  of  justice. 

In  an  important  land  case  in  San  Francisco,  which 
lasted  over  a  month,  on  retiring  to  the  jury  room 
])robal)ly  not  more  than  one  or  two  of  the  twelve  had 
(leterniined  on  which  side  their  vote  should  be  cast. 
It  happened  that  one  of  the  jurors  was  agent  for  a 
line  of  steamers,  and  that  the  leading  attorney  for  the 
defence  was  counsel  for  an  opposition  line.  This 
wholly  irrevelant  circumstance  prejudiced  the  case. 
The  steamer  agent  determined  that  the  attorney  of 
his  competitor  should  not  triumph.  Impetuous  and 
plausible,  he  had,  before  many  moments,  more  than 
half  the  jury  his  way  of  thinking,  and  the  rest  were 
finally  brow-beaten  into  it,  with  the  exception  of  one 
or  two,  who  rendered  the  decision  of  the  case 
impossible.  In  such  instances  men  are  compelled 
to  leave  their  business,  and  devote  time  worth  to 
them  ten  or  a  hundred  dollars  a  day,  in  order  to 
determine  the  private  quarrel  of  two  citizens,  which 


296 


THE  JURY  SYSTEM. 


\  ■ 


the  judge  could  have  much  nun'e  rightly  and  quickly 
decided. 

Before  court-houses,  wore  courts.  In  Mariposn,  in 
1850,  court  was  held  under  a  tree,  and  the  jury  iv- 
tired  to  another  tree  to  deliberate.  Under  the  <  lassie 
shade  was  brouyjlit  one  day  an  American  for  assault- 
ing  a  Mexican.     The  trial  over,  the  jury  retired. 

"  Lct'"^  hang  him,"  said  number  one. 

**  Oh  no,"  replied  number  two,  "ho  only  stabbed  a 
man ;  we  can't  hang  him  for  that." 

•'  Send  him  to  the  state  prison  for  life,"  put  in 
number  three. 

•'  That'll  do,"  exclaimed  half  a  dozen  at  once. 
And  so  it  was  concluded,  all  aorcein<j:  to  i  . 

"It  seems  to  me  rather  hard  after  all,"  runiinatrd 
number  two,  as  the  twelve  started  back  for  tlieoduit- 
tree,  "  to  imprison  a  man  for  life,  for  merely  stabLiii;^' 
a  Mexican;  besides,  where  is  your  prison  ?" 

•'  Lot's  acquit  him,'   said  number  one. 

"Agreed,"  exclaimed  the  rest;  and  so  the  man  was 
set  at  liberty. 

In  July  1851,  after  the  San  Francisco  vioilaiicc 
committee  had  been  in  session  several  weeks  baiii>]i- 
ing  and  hanging  desperadoes,  thereby  setting  as  it 
was  hoped  a  wholesome  example  to  the  officers  of  tht; 
law,  the  connnunity  was  startled  by  a  verdict  before 
one  of  tlie  courts,  of  twelve  as  enlightened  and  indr- 
pendeiit  as  any  Galway  jury.  A  young  man  naiiud 
Barnes  was  tried  for  robbinsc  a  fellow-lodiior  <•!' 
seventy-eight  dollars.  He  was  caught  in  the  act  and 
the  precise  amount  found  in  his  pocket.  The  jury 
had  no  doubt  of  his  guilt,  but  in  consideration  of  liis 
being  a  member  of  a  "  respectable  family  in  the  cast, ' 
they  brought  in  a  verdict  of  not  guilty.  By  askiii'j; 
the  judge  to  merely  "  admonish  the  prisoner,"  tlicv 
showed  their  belief  in  his  ijuilt.  The  younix  nian  Mas 
turned  loose  to  continue  his  chosen  career ;  and  yet 
there  wove  those  who  opposed  the  existence  of  a 
viiiilance  committee. 


MISTAKEN  HUMANITY. 


297 


mail  v;as 


It  is  not  in  America,  as  in  some  parts  of  Ireland, 
sviii[)iitliy  with  crime  wliidi  causes  this  failure  to  con- 
vict; it  is  a  nobler  sympathy,  a  sympathy  -with  hu- 
iiuiiiity,  with  misfortune.  And  yet,  such  sympathy 
is  oriiorally  mistaken,  and  sometimes  maudlin. 

One  of  the  stran«j:ost  things  about  the  viuilance 
coiniiiittec  was  the  interest  in  and  sympathy  for  the 
piisoiier,  manifested  by  those  associated  to  punish 
criiiie.  There  is  somethin»i^  in  misfortune,  whether 
deserved  or  not,  which  toudies  every  generous  heart. 
Hii*  were  strong  men  of  the  world,  men  of  thought, 
of  cliaracter,  nerved  to  the  work  of  punishment  by 
tliivatoned  social  anarchy,  men  determined  to  do  their 
duty;  and  yet  in  almost  every  instance  where  the 
o;()od  man  and  the  bad  man  are  brought  together,  the 
fdniuT  soon  learns  to  regard  the  crimes  of  the  latter 
^vit]l  toleration.  Truett,  among  the  foremost  of 
Ttriy's  captors,  was  the  foremost  of  his  liberators. 
From  advocate  and  defender  of  the  accused,  he, 
the  stern,  self-constituted  instrument  of  retributive 
justice,  became  the  prisoner's  trusted  friend,  believing 
liiiu  no  moio  worthy  of  punishment  tl"u  his  own 
l)n>t]ier. 

So  with  regard  to  Smiley  in  his  intercourse  with 
Olio  of  the  greatest  villians  ever  hanged  by  a  vigilance 
coinmittee.  "  Hetherington  was  a  man  of  great  cul- 
ture," he  says  in  his  dictation,  "  one  who  was  cut 
out  for  a  parson,  in  my  opinion.  He  had  a  strong  re- 
ligious under-current  in  his  inner  man.  I  knew  him 
very  well.  He  did  not  deserve  hanging  much,  and 
would  not  have  been  hanged  in  ordinary  times.  It 
was  a  sort  of  lona:  fiijht  between  him  and  liandall  in 
relation  to  property.  They  had  quarreled  and  Hetli- 
erington  committed  the  first  insult  and  Randall  re- 
sented it." 

Here  we  see  the  inxeperienced  judge,  acting  as  coun- 
sel for  the  accused,  pursuing  unconsciously  the  same 
line  of  excuses  as  the  criminal  himself;  he  had  lost 
himself  and  his  sense  of  duty  in  his  sympathy  for  the 


S06 


THE  JURY  SWSTEM 


I 


1; 

i;  I 

I  I'.i 
I 


-If  i 


..1: 

H  q.    Hi 


111 


l4 


poor  fdlow.  And  yet  Smiley  was  wklo-awakf  and 
rlear-l leaded,  and  Truett  was  iiir-si^litod,  sliiewd,  aiid 
a  close  reasoner.  You  could  not  make  Smiley  bclitvo 
in  Terry's  iimoccnce — Smiley  prosecuted  Terry — no 
more  than  you  could  convince  Truett  that  Hetheriii<f- 
ton  should  not  have  been  handed.  There  were  several 
in  the  connnittee  who  thought  poor  little  Cora's  pun- 
ishment too  severe. 

Never  were  men  more  clear  in  their  conviction.*; 
never  were  men  more  sincere,  more  determined  to  do 
right,  more  thoughtful,  intelligent,  and  capable  of  dis- 
cerning the  right.  They  were  not  jurors  by  comjiul- 
sion,  but  volunteers  enlisted  from  an  overwhelnuni: 
sense  of  necessity.  They  had  staked  everytliinj^, 
honor,  property,  and  life  itself  in  t>rder  to  accompllHli 
what  they  deemed  a  paramount  obligation  resting  on 
them  as  citizens  of  a  moral  and  independent  common- 
wealth. If  with  all  these  fires  of  patriotisu)  burning 
within  them,  these  earnest  and  honest  endeavors  after 
the  virtuous,  the  right,  the  true,  such  men  fail  eom- 
pletely  the  moment  their  feelings  are  touched,  surely 
then,  forced  jurymen  of  lower  intellect,  of  reason  yet 
more  easily  bedimmed  by  sophistry,  picked  promiscu- 
ously from  the  mercantile  or  mechanical  class,  aie  no 
better  fitted  for  sitting  in  judgment  upon  the  life  of 
a  fellow-being. 

This  Hetherington,  when  tried  before  a  jury  fur  liis 
first  nmrder,  was  acquitted.  Even  the  judge,  a  Cali- 
ft)rnian  judge,  accustomed  to  liberating  crhninals,  was 
so  struck  by  the  clearness  of  the  case  that  when  tlie 
jury  brought  in  their  verdict  J\e  could  not  hold  hi. 
peace. 

**  Not  guilty,"  was  what  they  u  'd,  though  why  tliey 
said  it,  by  what  process  of  reasoi  \g  their  consciences 
acquitted  them  of  perjury,  no  one,  ot  even  they  them- 
selves, pretended  to  know.  "But  the  man  has  com- 
mitted murderl"  exclaimed  the  ji  Ige,  confounded  at 
their  wilful  stupidity.  Fifteen  thousand  dollars,  Heth- 
erington complained,  this  killing  cost  him.     For  that 


t 


THE  LAW  AND  THE  FACTS. 


'JOO 


sum  tlio  lawyers  persuaded  the  jury  that  Hrtlierin<;ton 
iiiiiltlii't  help  it;  so  they  let  hmi  go  and  kill  aii- 
other  man. 


It  was  an  early  and  well-known  maxim,  "ad  quaes- 
tii)ii(iii  juris  rL'8i>ondeant  judices,  ad  quacstionem  facti 
ns[)<»ndcant  juratores/'  and  the  only  basis  upon  which 
the  system  could  rest.  The  judges  might  determine 
the  facts  as  well  as  the  law,  but  the  jurors  could  l)y 
no  possibility  determine  the  law,  for  they  knew  noth- 
ing about  it.  And  yet  this  simple  and  just  rule  is  set 
aside  or  evaded  in  some  manner  almost  every  day. 
Thtjury  nominally  may  not  |)ass  upon  the  law,  but 
in  nullity  they  do  so,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  in 
evoiy  verdict  rendered.  In  all  their  decisions  they 
consider  the  penalty,  which  they,  directly,  'ave  no 
ri.;lit  to  do,  and  so  render  their  verdict  as  to  bring  the 
accused  under  the  punishment  deemed  by  them  most 
proper.  They  do  not  even  restrict  themselves  to  the 
law,  but  judge  according  to  their  ideas  of  what  the 
law  should  be. 

True,  it  is  expected  of  the  jury  in  a  measure  to 
niitijfute  the  severe  technical  interpretation  of  the 
law  by  interpreting  the  facts  according  to  moral  law 
and  custom,  and  so  temper  decision  with  the  applica- 
tion of  equity  ;  but  in  America,  juries  altogether  ex- 
cued  these  limits  of  their  functions. 

In  all  cases  where  popular  opinion  pronounces  the 
law  too  severe,  such  as  ca[)ital  punishment  for  ft)rgery, 
for  theft,  for  irregularities  incidental  to  popular  move- 
inonts,  and  the  like,  in  every  such  case  the  jury  is  apt 
to  take  the  law  into  its  hands,  judging  of  the  law  as 
well  as  of  the  facts.  Indeed,  too  often  it  ignores  the 
facts  entirely,  accepts  overruled  evidence  or  false 
hypotheses,  and  not  being  able  to  mitigate  the  pen- 
alty and  bring  in  sentence  inflicting  milder  punishment, 
it  holdly  and  untruthfully  asserts  that  the  accused 
is  not  guilty.  Instance  the  usual  verdict  in  the  case 
of  a  legal  charge  of  murder  caused  by  fighting  a  duel. 


i 


llt^^^ii-^ 


m 


U  tlHlirllSUhtl 


1'^': 


ii 


300 


THE  JURY  SYSTEM. 


How  often  has  guilty  life  been  spared  and  the  in- 
noccMit  made  to  suffer,  even  by  our  latter-day  juiits! 
How  often  by  reason  of  predilection  or  passion  liuvc 
excessive  danmijes  been  awarded,  and  <>larino;  aluiMs 
fostered,  so  that  the  higher  courts  have  been  oblintd 
to  set  aside  outrageous  verdicts  with  reprimands,  di- 
to  bolster  this  defunct  S3'stem  by  establishing  riilis  as 
to  the  measure  of  damages,  or  by  defining  and  restrict- 
ing the  duties  of  jurors. 

This  is  one  of  the  many  anomalies  of  the  system. 
Maxims  say,  and  the  law  sa3'S,  the  judge  shall  dctt  r- 
mine  the  law  and  the  jury  the  facts,  and  this  will  ho 
reiterated  in  legislative  halls  and  tribunals  of  justice 
century  after  century,  and  all  the  while  the  contrary  is 
done  with  none  of  these  Solon?    eemingly  aware  of  it. 

The  oath  of  a  juror  is  of  little  value  in  restrictiii:^^ 
him  to  the  evidence  as  the  foundation  of  his  virdict. 
The  more  stupid  think  themselves  so  restricted,  tliiiik 
themselves  under  a  load  of  responsibility,  when  in 
truth  it  is  nothing  but  stone-blindness  that  atltcts 
them.  Perjury  is  a  crime  of  hourly  occurrence  in  mu' 
ct)urts.  How  easily  an  expert  lawyer  makes  a  wit- 
ness contradict  himself.  And  do  we  not  see  in  al- 
most every  case  brought  up  for  trial  the  witness  f(  r 
the  one  side  and  the  other  flatly  contradicting  each 
other?  Men's  consciences  are  elastic.  Since  ain<ini 
all  classes  the  mind  is  being  stripped  by  science  of  its 
su[)erstitions  there  is  little  fear  of  divhie  wrath  for 
swearing  falsely.  And  of  all  men  jurors  seem  to  en- 
tertain tlu(  least  regard  for  the  oath  thev  have  taken. 
Some  there  are  who  hold  out  manfully  against  the  un- 
portunities  of  impatient  associates,  but  their  motives 
are  usually  not  directed  by  conscience.  I  do  not  say 
that  there  is  much  wilful  perjury ;  quite  the  contrary. 
But  what  is  the  ditference,  in  reality,  whether  tlio 
svstem  fails  throuo-h  wilful  or  unintentional  perjury: 

In  this  connection  the  question  arises:  Winn  tin* 
will  of  the  people  is  against  the  hiM*  and  judge  that 
they  have  made,  how  should  a  jury  decide,  aeeonlnig 


MERIT  OF  Ki^oRANCE  A\D  STUPIDITY. 


r:oi 


ti)  llic  evidence  as  they  have  sworn  to  do,  or  accord- 
iiiir  to  pojjular  prejudice?  We  kuosv  liow  tliey  do 
(Kcido  ill  such  instances. 

Ill  every  important  criminal  case  the  more  intclH' 
(rent  part  of  sucli  citizens  as  are  competent  to  serve 
as  jurors  is  rejected  on  the  ground  of  bias.  Those 
^vlio  read  the  newspapers,  who  keej)  themselves  in- 
fiiniird  of  passing  events,  who  take  an  interest  in  the 
atlairs  of  the  commonwealth;  those  who  love  justice, 
wlio  hate  wrong-doing,  wlio  think,  form  opinions,  and 
dare  to  speak  their  minds;  those  in  fact  wlio  alone 
arc  capable  of  weighing  the  evidence,  deternnning  the 
facts,  and  rendering  a  proper  verdict,  arc  too  ofien 
ruled  out  as  unfit  to  serve.  It  would  seem  at  times, 
among  a  higli-minded,  active-brained  community, 
tliat  it  was  im]K)ssible  to  find  twelve  men  sufficiently 
.stupid  to  m  et  the  requirements  of  those  whose  profes- 
simi  it  is  to  defeat  tlie  ends  of  justice.  It  would  seem 
at  times  that  recourse  must  be  had  to  an  inebriate  or 
idiot  asylum  for  jurymen  sufficiently  ignorant  and 
leatlicr-brained  to  satisfy  the  wise  counsellors  and 
learned  judges  who  play  fast  and  loose  with  vagabonds, 
and  all  wlio  prey  u})on  the  industrious  classes.  As 
Jiiliii  T.  Morse,  Jr,  of  Boston,  writing  in  the  AmcHcav 
Linr  lU'vietv  of  July  1871  says  of  the  jury  in  tlie 
Laura  D.  Fair  trial,  "At  last,  after  a  long  period  an,! 
oaietul  search,  a  dozen  men  were  brought  together, 
])resumably  the  most  unintelligent  crea*-ures  in  Cali- 
fornia, so  exceptionably  imbecile  as  to  be  unexcep- 
tionable. These  worthies  sat  solcmnlj'  in  the  box, 
listdiiiig  to  the  harangues  and  theories  of  the  learned 
and  (lixjuent  counsel  for  the  accused  lady,  until  it 
may  he  su[)posed  that  their  mental  condition  became 
ludre  confused  than  hers  was  represented  to  liave  been 
at  tlie  time  of  the  commission  of  the  deed  of  killing. 
Indeed  it  is  not  satisfactorily  shown  that  they  had 
ever  been  educated  up  to  the  compreliension  of  tlie 
idea  that  to  shoot  a  human  being  is  really  an  objee- 


H 


302 


THE  JURY  SYSTEM. 


tionable  act.  Their  finding  was  only  what  shoukl  na- 
turally have  been  anticipated  ;  and  after  all  it  was  tjie 
law  or  the  administration  thereof  which  insisted  ui)i»ii 
having  such  men  for  jurors  rather  than  the  iwn 
themselves,  that  ought  justly  to  be  held  answerable 
for  their  action." 

However  this  question  may  be  regarded,  of  Ameri- 
can justice  one  thing  can  truly  be  said.  Crime  is 
here  pampered  beyond  all  precedent.  A  monevLcl 
criminal  is  almost  sure  of  acquittal  at  the  hands  of  our 
honest  and  intelligent  juries.  The  petty  poor  oHTciidcr 
they  do  not  hesitate  to  punish  for  example's  saku. 
Sympathy  for  the  criminal  if  he  has  a  dash  of  licroism 
in  him,  or  a  mawkish  sentimentality,  shields  tlie 
shedder  of  blood.  Our  juries  seem  to  seize  on  any 
pretext  to  save  the  lives  of  those  who  so  ruthlessly 
take  the  lives  of  others.  Thus  our  courts  are  de- 
graded, society  demoralized,  and  justice  ridiculed. 
How  often  do  we  sec  the  deliberate  and  proven  mur- 
derer either  wholly  acquitted  or  else  found  guilty  in 
the  second  degree  and  recommended  to  mercv.  Savs 
an  editor  on  this  subject  "Juries  seldom  visit  the 
full  penalty  of  the  law  on  offenders,  and  often  ae(juit 
those  well  known  to  be  guilty."  And  thus  a  judi;e: 
"In  this  country  crime  and  the  legal  penalties  scldnin 
meet.  Too  much  is  made  out  of  juries  and  [)etitioiis 
for  pardon.  From  these  evils,  long  allowed,  spiiiig 
occasional  necessities  for  vigilance  conunittees.  Hun- 
dreds of  lives  have  been  the  price,  in  Idaho  and  .Mon- 
tana, of  a  few  which  escaped  the  law  in  California." 

It  would  seem  from  the  opinions  and  actions  of  our 
lawyers,  judges,  and  jurors,  that  courts  of  law  were 
established  for  the  primary  purpose  of  clearing  crimi- 
nals. In  almost  every  comnmnity  we  see  for  one 
prosecuting  attorney  in  criminal  cases  five  who  uaiu 
their  living  on  the  other  side.  This  is  painfully  si;j;- 
nificant.  Crime  abounds.  Prisons  and  law  ((urts 
are  established  and  maintained,  at  the  cost  of  the  [leo- 
ple,   to  sup[)rcss  crime.     Social  vultures  prey  upon 


COURTS  FOR  CLEARING  CRIMINALS. 


303 


the  people,  and  so  obtain  the  means,  not  only  to  in- 
dulge in  rioting  and  debauchery,  but  to  purchase  their 
frectlom  from  punishment.  With  the  niuney  thus 
fruiululently  obtained  from  the  people,  criminals  em- 
ploy so-called  respectable  lawyers  to  procure  their 
ac(|iiittal  before  tribunals  likewise  established  and  paid 
for  by  the  people. 

To  Djain  an  unjust  cause,  known  to  be  such  when 
undertaken,  lawyers  do  not  hesitate  to  wilfully  mis- 
represent witnesses,  distort  evidence,  pervert  facts, 
and  bring  upon  honest  men  the  foulest  imputations. 
To  perpetrate  the  diabolical  deed  of  letting  loose  upon 
society  a  human  hyena,  one  known  to  thetn  to  be 
such,  they  do  not  hesitate  to  pour  torrents  of  slander- 
ous invective  upon  the  heads  of  the  opposing  counsel, 
tlie  witnesses,  and  all  who  bar  their  progress  in  their 
infamous  purpose.  And  all  this  with  no  loss  of  char- 
acttr  or  caste.  All  is  professional,  and  strictly  in 
accordance  with  law  ami  custom.  Indeed,  the  attor- 
ney, it  is  said,  does  not  earn  his  fee  unless  he  employs 
liis  utmost  skill  in  theconnnission  of  a  crime,  perhaps, 
as  i;reat  as  that  for  which  his  client  is  being  tried. 

If  the  trial  goes  against  the  defence,  a  few  excep- 
ti  >ns  taken  carries  the  case  to  the  supreme  court,  where 
enough  of  them  are  usually  sustained  to  secure  a  new 
hearing.  If  the  verdict  is  for  the  criminal,  and  unsat- 
isfactory to  the  public,  who  cares?  Vice  with  its 
putrifving  breath  bellows  approval,  and  virtue  nmst 
n(  (lis  stomach  it.  The  Rosicrucian  maxim  is  api)lied 
of  binding  the  wound  and  greasing  the  weapon,  in  the 
hope  tliat  by  some  sympathetic,  magical  reflex  action 
the  cause  of  the  evil  should  be  its  cure. 

After  all,  the  blame  attaches  mostly  to  the  system 
wliicli  tolerates  such  practice  rather  than  to  the  prac- 
titioner. All  lawyers,  judges,  and  court  and  jail  ofti- 
c'ials  are  supported  by  the  people.  This  is  bad  enough 
to  begin  with.  But  when  one  sees  half  or  three 
fourths  of  those  so  supported  employing  their  time 
and  talents  in  the  promotion  of  injustice,  in  letting 


SOI 


THE  JURY  SYSTEM. 


■■■'!- 


loose  again  tlio  comparatively  few  criminals  who  arc 
brought  to  trial,  it  becomes  abominal)le. 

Tlie  system  of  trial  by  jury  certainly  was  once  bene- 
ficial, but  having  served  its  purpose  it  is  now  unneces- 
sary, and  even  pernicious,  wherever  representative 
government  exists  to  offer  better  substitutes.  Lil'C 
war,  great-man  worship,  despotism,  hun^an  suiviry, 
and  all  those  savagisms  which  many  still  de[)]ore,  it 
was  a  necessary  stepping-stono  to  a  higher  plane,  to 
which  it  now  clings  a  mere  incumbrance. 

In  its  most  imi)ortant  revival,  the  system  niarkcil 
the  dawn  of  freedom.  In  as  far  as  the  spirit  of  lilx  ny 
pervaded  a  peoi)le,  in  so  far  the  principle  of  trial  by 
jury  is  found  enfolded  in  its  legal  forms.  And  almost 
everywhere  the  principle  prevailed  in  a  greater  or  kss 
degree,  for  despotism  is  never  absolute,  any  more  tiian 
savagism  can  be  fixed  and  complete. 

It  would  seem  that  justice  might  gain  nmcli  aiid 
lose  nothing  by  now  laying  aside  the  jury  system, 
and  in  its  })lace  let  one  judge  hear  and  determine  jk  tty 
cases,  and  three  or  five,  or  more  if  necessary,  adjudi- 
cate in  matters  of  magnitude,  while  greatly  lestrli  ting 
apjK'als. 

]\Iay  not  a  judge,  or  a  bench  of  judges,  leaiiud  in 
the  law,  practised  in  the  administration  of  courts,  ex- 
perienced in  listening  to  arguments,  in  weighing  tes- 
timony, and  in  determining  truth  from  falseliood.  n  p- 
resent  the  people  in  their  tribunals,  and  administer  jus- 
tice more  evenly,  more  surely,  more  dispassioiiatrly 
than  twelve  connnon-place,  not  to  say  ignorant  and 
inexperienced  men,  chosen  indiscriminately  from  va- 
rious trades  and  occupations? 

We  are  certain  to  come  to  some  such  jilan  sooner  or 
later.  Mr  Forsyth  says  truly  that  "the  machinery 
of  our  law  is  too  complicated,  and  its  working'  too 
expensive  to  suit  the  wants  of  the  present  a^r;  and 
it  nmst  be  effectually  amended,  or  it  will  run  the  ii>k 
of  being  rudely  overthrown."     For  as  in  uiccLauios 


THE  TNJUSTirE  OF  IT. 


305 


the  sunpler  the  machine  the  less  hability  to  derange- 
lut'iit,  so  in  goverimieut,  the  fewer  the  havs  tlie  less 
tin;  iiKi'tia  and  friction  in  courts  of  justice,  and  the 
less  tlio  evils  to  society. 

The  rtisponr,ibility  is  too  great,  some  say,  to  entrust 
to  so  few.  But  surely  it  is  not  in  numbers  that  jus- 
tice is  found.  Besides,  the  purity  of  the  court  can  as 
well  ho  guanletl  when  under  the  sole  directum  of 
conipetent  judges,  aye,  and  nmeji  better,  tlian  when 
civiliaus  attempt  to  interfere.  King  Alfred  used  to 
liaii;^;  ju<lg(.'S  for  false  judgnvent;  are  the  people  of  our 
iej)iil»lie  less  potent  than  King  Alfred? 

Thi'  law  in  every  trial  })rc-supposes  controversy,  and 
iiii'ii  of  average  intelliixenee  can  determine  most  facts 
as  well  as  the  astute.      But  (^an  tliev  do   so   better? 
Fiirsytli  contends  that  they   can.       "No   mind   feels 
tlie  foice  of  technicalities,"  he  savs,  "so  stronglv  as 
that   of  a  lawyer.     It  is   the   mvstorv  of  his  craft, 
which  he  has  taken  much  pains  to  learn  and  which  he 
is  s(  Idoiii  averse  to  exercise.     He  is  apt  to  become 
the  slave  of  forms,  and  to  illustrate  the  truth  of  the 
old  maxim,   'qui  lueret  in  litera  luoret   in   cortice.'" 
One  can  easily  understand  how  a  mind  may  be   en- 
slaved hv  e(kieatini^  and  drilling;  it  in  forms  and  tech- 
iiicalitics,  hut  that  brain  nmst  be  weak   intkx'd  which, 
'•nci;  (^lucated  in  the  intricacies  of   tlie  law,  cannot 
(Miiipro]i(Mid  and  determine  facts.     Such  is  not  the 
tiil'iit  intelligent  connnunities  place  upon  their  judicial 
Iv'iiches. 

Till'  h)\vest  average  of  such  judges  could  hardly  be 
iut'rioi'  to  the  ordinary  jury.  Twelve  men,  the 
tiiicker  tlieir  heads  the  Ijottcr,  are  taken  from  their 
tanas  and  from  their  merchandise,  and  placed  upon 
flio  judgnieiit-seat.  What  can  they  do  that  competent 
paid  judges  cannot  do  better?  Unaccustomed  to  the 
wriirhiiio-  of  evidence  or  to  logical  sequences,  they  are 
■asily  swayed  by  frothy  a])peals  to  their  passions  or 
pivju(lii(>s,  and  in  tlie  hands  of  skilful  lawyers  arc  of 
'ill  others  the  greatest  bar  to  correct  decisions. 

Khsays  AND  Miscellany    'iO 


300 


THE  JURY  .SY.STEM. 


The  recognition  of  their  uicai)acity  lies  in  tliu  cus- 
tom of  the  judge  to  review  fortlieui  iu  plain  languu;^.' 
the  evidence  and  explain  the  application  of  tl'  i  law  t^ 
the  case.  The  jury,  after  all,  is  but  a  smaller  cditiuu 
of  the  popular  tribunal  which  jurists  so  strongly  cnn- 
dcnni,  only  in  many  instances  it  is  much  worse,  doiii;,' 
deeds  which  would  put  to  the  blush  any  wi'steiii 
frontier  lynch  court.  What  justice  might  Sociatis 
expect  before  a  jury  of  live  hundred  and  fifty-sevm 
Athenian  citizens,  whose  knowledge  he  had  inipu^iinj 
and  who.se  folly  he  had  reproved?  Such  juries  aiv 
simply  mobs.  If  I  am  guilty,  tiy  me  before  a  jury; 
if  innocent,  before  a  judge. 

The  system  seems  unjust,  also,  in  that  it  exacts 
from  the  citizen  a  service  without  adequate  coniiitii- 
sation.  As  well  might  the  state  take  i)roj)erty  wllli- 
out  })aying  for  it,  as  to  take  the  time  of  the  eitiz(ii>, 
paying  them  for  only  a  tenth  (»f  its  value.  Ihit,  say 
the  sui)portcrs  of  this  system,  will  not  the  unsiltish 
and  patriotic  citizen  cheerfully  and  gratuitously  render 
his  neighbor  that  service  which  he  is  liable  at  any  tiiiir 
to  be  oblioed  to  ask  at  his  hand?  No:  whv  should 
he?  President,  legislators,  judges,  soldiers,  arc  all 
necessary,  and  might  as  equitably  be  asked  to  serve 
without  pay.  There  is  no  ri'ason  why  any  persmi 
should  serve  the  country  in  one  capacity  more  tliui  in 
another  without  just  compensation.  The  pittance 
awarded  first-class  citizens  by  the  law  is  no  compen- 
sation f)r  time  taken  from  their  business;  and  yit 
even  this  is  often  a  heavy  Imrden  to  litigants,  -hw- 
tice  should  be  absolutely  free;  and  the  most  ellicieiit 
and  economical  plan  would  be  administration  by  judges 
alone,  which  would  greatly  sinq)lify  as  well  as  (liea[)en 
court  procedure. 

It  must  be  admitted  that  reformation  eudjracinu 
the  excision  of  the  jury  system  nmst  also  extend  ty 
>>ther  branches  of  the  administration  of  justice.  This 
Mivolves  the  question  in  how  far  the  purity  ot  tiv 
i.  -nch  can  be  assured  by  higher  pay,  life-tenure  of  ( dlice, 


I'URITY   or  Till:  liENClI. 


:;o7 


and  otluT  measures.  Wlicther  the  popular  elootiou 
for  ttrm-tenurt!  he  retained  or  not,  the  t'lection  systc^m 
IK  ;(Is  ahc^ve  all  to  he  reformed,  for  herein  lii-s  the  root 
of  all  administrative  ills.  So  long  as  a  low  fonign 
ni!il)li',  and  the  ignorant  and  vicious  scum  of  the  pop- 
ulatinii,  with  httlo  or  no  tangible  interest  in  the  com- 
iiiuiiitv,  arc  permitted  under  the  leadershi[)  of  unscru- 
pulniis  and  scheming  politicians  to  control  our  hallots 
liv  till  if  creatures,  so  long  will  corruption  reign  in 
judicial  as  well  as  pcjlitical  circles. 

A  purified  constituency  will  produce  ahle  and  up- 
li'ilit  judges,  to  whom  can  be  safely  entrusted  the 
(iitiiv  res[ionsihihty  hitherto  sliared  with  mo"e  im- 
mediate representatives  of  the  people.  Tlie  advantage 
'f  a  jury  coniposi'd  of  such  oHicial  professionals  will 
liu  net  alone  in  their  spec-ial  training  and  experience, 
li"*-,  ill  their  being,  more  than  ordinary  jurors, account- 
al)ly  responsible  to  the  public  for  acts  and  decisions; 
subject  to  daily  criticisms  by  lynx-eyed  rivals  and 
jKuly  i)ress,  and  liable  to  indictment  and  disgrace  and 
()tli(,'r  ])unishment.  The  diiiintv  and  isolation  of  their 
office,  moreover,  exposes  them  k'ss  to  those  maudlin 
and  baneful  sympathies,  and  other  objectionable  in- 
tluciices,  which  sway  the  average  juryman. 

Mail  in  his  proximate  relations  is  not  wholly  fit  to 
judge  his  fellow-man.  He  cannot  do  it  fairly,  dispas- 
sitiiiatelv.  He  nmst  first  become  somewhat  of  a  ma- 
cliiiie,  must  go  by  the  book,  nmst  acquire  full  control 
of  tlie  svnr.iathies  and  feeliu'-s  of  humanitv,  and  exer- 
CISC  iiiainlv  his  reasonin'j;  faculties,  recjardinii:  <juilt  in 
the  abstract,  hi  its  effect  on  society,  weighing  calmly 
till'  plea  of  individual  or  circumstantial  extenuation. 
He  must  be  blind  to  partiality,  yet  not  wholly  so  to 
pity  and  benevolence.  The  mother  who  conunits  a 
mine  for  a  starving  or  injured  child  should  not  be 
liunislicd  hi  tlie  same  degree  as  the  professional  crim- 
inal. The  youthful  cul[)rit  must  be  reclaimed,  not 
fast  ferth  midst  hardened  ofl'enders.  Crime  is  a  poison 
tu  be  ivniovetl  from  the  body  politic  not  by  cruel  ex- 


308 


THE  JURY  SYSTEM. 


cision  alone.  The  judge  sliould  weigh,  although  dis- 
passionately, the  fathondcss  depth  of  man's  love  and 
liato,  his  ignorance  and  environment,  his  weakness  and 
temptation.  Above  the  letter  of  tlie  law  should  pn  - 
vail  the  spirit  of  the  law;  above  adamantine  justice. 
equity. 


:;.  I'l! 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


M0N(J0L1ANI,SM  IN  AMERICA. 

Wliiii  the  nu  '.titudu  liate  a  man,  it  is  neceiisary  to  examine  into  the  case. 
^\  htii  tli'j  multitude  like  a  man,  it  is  necessary  to  examine  into  the  ease. 


At   first    it  was  rcuardod  as  a  novoltv,  aiul    uio.st 
aiiuisiiig  to  the  curious  Califoniians,  tlie  coining  of  tlic 
Asiatic.      Hu  added  picturcsqueiiess  to  tlio  population. 
With  (Trock,  Turk,  and  Egyi)tian,  African,  Indian, 
and  Kanaka,  all  perambulating-  the  streets  and  wan- 
(loiiiig  ahout  the  nuning  districts,  the  fresh-ini[K)rte(l 
and  cleanly  scraped  Chinaman,  with  his  lialf-shaven 
Iliad,  his  long  braided  queue,  his  oblique  almond  eyes, 
liis  catgut  voice;  his  plain  blue  frock,  or,  if  a  man  of 
consequence,  arraj'ed  in  a  flashy  silk  tunic,  with  red 
sasli,  clean  white    stockings,  and    shining    satin   and 
wooden  shoes,   followed  by  a  sleek  little  niarketable 
wife  witJi  silver  anklets  and  other  jingling  ornaments, 
and  ]ieilia[)s  a  demi-John  or  two — it  was  quite  amus- 
ing to  see  them  hero  and  there  and  every wliere,  and 
to  show  them  to  strangers  as  one  of  the  many  unique 
t'eatiu\s  California  could  boast.     It  i)ut  one  (juite  in 
'j;ood  humor  with  one's  self  to  watch  them  waddling 
uiuliM'  the  springy  pole  sustaining  at  either  end  a  huge 
and  heavily-laden  basket;  it  made  one  quite  feel  one's 
supi  rioi'ity  to  see  these  queer  little  si)ecimens  of  pct- 
ntiod  progress,  to  listen  to  their  higli-keyed  strains  of 
t'lino  conversation,  and  notice  all  their  cunning  curi- 
"^itv  and  barbaric  artlessness.     It  was  easy  to  distin- 
^uisli    tlie  new-comer    from    the  old    resident.     The 
'"•11" '!•  appeared  at  first  lost  in  amazement,  bewildered, 
'stunned    by  the    strange  sights;    then  as  his  senses 

( m ) 


1' 


rv, 


■?i,"' 


:i"         V'i 


\}r  S 


310 


MONftOLIAMlSM  IN  AMERICA. 


slowly  came  to  him,  he  manifested  the  <]^reatcst  curi- 
osity at  (!vcrything  that  inct  his  view,  eai^or  wiihal  to 
know  the  meaning  of  things.  The  latter  assuiiK d  an 
air  of  sedate  superiority,  as  if  familiar  with  Siui  !•  lan. 
cisco  seenes  from  childluxjil.  Yonder  is  an  aiiciriit-  - 
not  many  such  are  seen — witli  white  hairs  scattiied 
over  tlie  eliin,  and  covering  tjie  scjuint  of  the  (ilitiis(. 
angled  (yes  a  pair  of  enormous  s))ectacl(s,  ugly  b(\  ciid 
the  power  of  words  to  <;xi)i'('ss.  These  varieties  minulf- 
with  otlier  varieties  of  (hft'erent  oriiiiii  anri  niiiimfac- 
ture,  giving  rolor  and  odor  to  new  compositions. 

The  similarity  in  dress,  and  the  want  of  heard,  givf^ 
them  to  inexperiencod  cyts  a  sameness  of  ap])t';n;uK'c. 
as  if  they  had  all  been  cast  in  on(>  mouhl.  Tlii.--  re- 
mark has  also  been  ap])lied  to  the  Indian,  wlioso  ro- 
semblance  to  the  celestial  has  been  tlie  fre(]uent  tluiiii 
of  travellers  and  scientists.  It  does  not  apinai-  tliat 
tlie  red  man  is  flattered  by  tlie  comjmrison,  to  jii(lp,i 
from  the  abuse  he  is  so  ready  to  lavish  on  his  vi\al. 
It  is  relat(!d  tliat  when  John  Young  was  once  takiii;: 
some  numkevs  to  the  museum  at  Salt  Lake  Citv. 
sevi'ral  Reno  savages  a]»proaehed  and  examined  thciii 
with  characteristic  gravity.  Young  asked  tluni  if 
they  knew  what  tlicy  were.  The  cliief  looked  upas 
if  surprised  at  the  simplicity  of  the  ({uestion,  and  re- 
plied, "(),  yes,  me  know  well;  China  pappooso!" 

This  may  not  be  fair  to  the  celestial  urchins,  who 
are  really  attractive  and  intelligent  in  eyes  and  features, 
With  increasing  years  they  retain  a  certain  siniplirity 
of  expression,  a  childlike  innocence,  and  a  ready  smile, 
which  becomes  soniewhat  spasmodic  if  forcetl  into  a 
laugh  ;  but  a  characteristic  and  repulsive  st<»lidiiy  and 
unconcern  settle  u[)on  them,  as  if  the  bright,  unsepliis- 
tieated  mind  had  been  rudely  cramped  witliin  the 
narrow  compass  of  bigoted  custom  and  hopeless  hond- 
aoe  before  it  had  cjained  time  to  develop,  Thev  stand 
before  us  now,  a  mixture  of  the  child,  the  slave,  and 
the  sphinx.  The  eye  in  particular  is  cold,  nioaninil- 
less,  yet  cunning  hi  expression,  and  with  a  Eurojieaii 


f'HYslQUi;    AND    l)I!E.s.s. 


811 


growth  of  hair  tlio  low  forclu-ad  would  ]ir(»l)al)ly  iii- 
(Ttusi!  this  repulsive  feature.  Iiitoili^'eiit  Cliiiiaiiieu 
have  with  frefjuent  interrourHc  cauu^lit  a  niiaiii  of 
Caucnsian  aniiiiatioii,  hut  the  almost  slavish  (jiiietude 
(if  'j,:iit  and  manner  is  never  laid  asicU-.  Many,  es[)e- 
ciaHy  among  the  hetter  class,  can  he  termed  good- 
l<i()king,  even  hy  a  fastidious  Kuropean. 

Tli(y  arc  shorter  than  Americans,  and  less  muscular, 
hut  possessed  of  considerahle  endurance.  The  Women 
a\v.  proportionately  lower  in  staturt\  and  more  s(|uat 
of  hiiild.  The  monotonv  of  fi<»ure  is  increased  hv  the 
coiiscrvativG  dark  hlue  dress,  which  adds  neither  to 
Mature  nor  to  <>racc. 

Th(!  lahorers  so  fre(piently  seen  in  our  streets  have 
iiiado  us  familiar  witli  the  wide  cotton  trousers,  harely 
reaciiing  to  the  ankle ;  the  equally  wide  and  shape- 
less blouse  which  terminates  above  the  knee,  fits  close 
around  the  neck,  unprotecteil  hy  any  collar,  and  over- 
laps ahout  four  inches  in  front,  wliere  it  is  fastened 
with  loops  and  small  brass  buttons.  The  sleeve  wid- 
ens gradually  from  the  shoulder  and  reaches  below 
the  hand,  but  is  rolled  up  above  the  wi'ist  by  the 
workman,  or  secured  by  a  plaited  rush  cufi".  The 
white  underclothing  of  Canton  flannel  or  cotton  falls 
liver  the  trousers  and  gleams  below  the  blouse.  In 
cold  weather  a  sleeveless,  quilted  jacket,  somewhat 
slioiter  than  the  blouse,  is  worn  as  an  overcoat,  or 
the  (luilted  blouse  is  used. 

The  rich  dress  of  the  wealthy  is  of  flt)wcry  silk  and 
fine  cassimere,  with  less  amplitude,  and  unrolled 
sleeves;  the  trous(>rs,  of  equally  rich  material  and 
iifti'ii  of  gray  color,  are  gathered  and  tied  at  the 
inikle.  This  strange  costume  does  not  altogether  de- 
tract from  the  dignity,  which,  added  to  a  polite  man- 
ner, readily  distinguishes  the  upper  classes,  whence 
the  vulgar  arc  barred  by  a  rigid  exclusiveness.  A 
I'uither  indication  of  hi<>'h  caste  is  the  lonij  finijer- 
nails,  with  which  manual  labor  can  have  noconnection. 

A  low  cloth  shoe,  with  its  white  band  of  pig-skin 


312 


MONWOLIANISM  IN  AMKUICA. 


v:,.;i 


round  the  solo,  and  its  frecjUi'Mtly  enibroidcrvd  cnvcr. 
forms  a  neat  toot-drcss  for  all  seasons.  The  sole  is  of 
W(»od,  cork,  or  layers  of  felt,  or  })a|)er,  the  final  l.iycr 
l)uin<^  leather.  It  is  ahout  tin  -e  ({narters  of  an  inch 
in  thiekness,  follows  the  outline  (»f  the  foot,  is  di'void 
of  heel,  unci  tapers  somewhat  at  the  toe,  as  it  turns 
slightly  upward.  A  loose,  white,  shapeless  stocking!' 
protruding  at  the  instep,  is  worn  hy  the  town-folk. 

The  most  eonnnon  hat  is  the  black  or  gray  Anicii- 
can  felt,  with  straight  rim  and  low  Hat  crown  ;  hut 
field  laborers  use  a  wide  umbrella-shaped  structure 
of  split  bamboo,  or  rushes,  gathering  into  a  cone. 
Occasionally  maybe  seen  a  short  felt  hat  with  tlic 
rim  turned  vertically  up,  even  with  the  idundcd 
crown.  The  wealthy  wear  a  close  fitting,  stiff  .skull- 
cap, without  rim,  surmounted  by  a  bulb,  the  color  (if 
which  is  regulated  bv  the  rank  of  the  wearer. 

Women  use  the  blouse  and  trousers,  but  of  greater 
amplitude.  The  plain-colored  silken  under-robe  of 
the  female  of  hio-lier  de«j;ree,  has  a  narrow  embroidery 
at  the  bottom  which  touches  the  feet,  ami  over  tlii.s  a 
shorter  satin  skirt,  entirely  covered  with  fine  embroi- 
dery. The  waist  is  often  bound  by  a  silk  sash,  with 
trailing  ends. 

It  is  the  ambition  of  [)arents  to  achieve  social  im- 
portance, as  indicated  particularly  by  the  size  into 
which  they  can  .afford  to  compress  the  feet  of  their 
girls,  in  order  to  render  them  as  helpless  as  possible, 
fit  only  for  a  wealthy  husband.  In  early  childhood 
the  four  small  toes  are  folded  against  the  sole,  so  as 
to  grow  into  it,  leaving  the  big  toe  to  form  a  part  of 
an  elongated  shrunken  hoof  of  some  three;  iuclics, 
which  results  from  the  treatmeut.  The  f  ./ri  at  first 
is  severe  ;  an.d  though  suffering  in  due  time  uisap[)eur.s, 
the  gait  always  remains  tottering.  The  Canton 
river  women  in  America  are  not  marked  with  this 
index  of  gentility,  but  imitate  the  gait  by  using  a 
rounded  sole  which  tapers  at  the  toe. 

Their  neck  is  bare  and  unadorned,  like  that  of  the 


HItJNIFirANl'K  OF  TIIK  QUEUE. 


:ti:i 


iiu  II.  l)ut  the  wrists  and  ankles  aiv  clusprd  l)y  ivory 
i)V  .itlur  rings.    Ear-rings  are  also  worn  ;  l>ut  the  rest 


II 


t'ili(!  Jewelry  is  reserved  for  the  hair;  and  thr  silk 
k<  Tchiet",  whieh  constitutes  the  only  head-dress,  is 
SI  Idoiii  allowed  to  hide  the  artistic  rin^s  and  knots 
into  w  liicli  nmrried  women  arrange  their  hack  hair. 
V  ith  the  aid  of  gold  hodkins,  rihhands,  and  wax,  sur- 
iiiouiitiiig  the  whole  with  artificial  Hower.s.  (iirls 
wear  plaits.  The  face  is  cunningly  enamelled,  icd- 
tiii;4rd  lips  and  ctieeks,  and  the  evident  artifice  is  not 
uiiattnuitive.  The  fan,  also  carried  by  men  of  quality, 
is  iirver  absent. 

The  circumscribed  taste  for  finery  finds  a  broadtT 
tirld  ill  the  child,  on  whom  the  mother  lavishes  color, 
hracelets.  bells,  and  ribbands  in  profusion. 

Most  striking  is  the  shaven  head  of  the  men  with 
tlic  ([ueue  dangling  obtrusively  to  the  Jicels.  There 
is  IK)  religious  significance  in  this,  for  it  is  merely  an 
innovation  of  the  Tartar  conquerors,  forced  upon  the 
people  in  the  middle  of  the  1 7th  century,  (jlreat 
was  the  struggle  to  maintain  the  long  heavy  locks 
which  prior  to  their  subjugation  they  often  gathered 
into  a  knot  upon  the  crown;  but  gradually  they  be- 
came iesiu[ned  to  the  innovation,  and  that  which  was 
oiur  the  symbol  of  enslavement  became  the  most 
rhiiished  appendage  of  their  dress;  .so  much  so  that 
the  loss  of  it  is  considered  a  disurace,  and  \'vw  can 
even  htiar  to  coil  it  u)),  although  it  is  often  in  the  way 
while  working.  Many  would  be  glad  to  ailopt  our 
fashion,  but  prejudice  is  too  strong  even  for  tin; 
rcliuinus  convert. 

The  English  government  at  Hong  Kong  took  ad- 
vantage of  this  feeling  to  ])unish  culprits  with  lo^s  of 
<|Ui'Uc  in  addition  to  imprisonment;  and  this  measure 
was  also  adopted  at  San  FrancLsco  in  1870,  afte  •  a 
t'ailuie  to  introduce  it  in  1873.  The  victims  shrieked 
\vitli  horror  at  the  sacrilege,  and  never  recovered  their 
fi'nner  self-respect — in  this  displaying  the  quality  of  a 
luuuufuctured  conscience. 


WW 


314 


MONfiOLTANISM  TN  AMERICA. 


Whatever  neglect  the  body  may  suffer,  the  head 
receives  frequent  and  religious  care,  as'  may  be  jucl'j,f(l 
from  the  large  number  of  barber  signs  display i«  I  in 
their  quarter.  Here  we  have,  histead  of  the  stiiprd 
pole  of  the  ancient  blood-letters,  a  green  franu;  wiiL 
four  legs,  each  tipped  with  a  red  ball,  in  imitation  of 
their  washstands.  The  shop  is  gcneralh"  a  baseincnt 
room,  furnished  with  a  stool  for  the  victim,  a  wasli- 
stand  before  it,  and  a  bench  for  waiting  custoiiins. 
Every  part  of  the  skin  above  the  shoulders  is  waslud 
in  warm  water,  without  soap,  and  shaved,  all  except 
the  small  patch  on  the  crown  where  the  qui  r.o  is 
rooted;  for,  until  the  youth  attains  the  magic  a^o  o\ 
forty,  he  is  not  supposed  to  cultivate  a  nmstacbo  and 
goatee,  which  by  that  time  may  be  induced  to  struii'^lc 
into  existence.  As  for  whiskers,  they  are  never  seen, 
even  on  the  rare  hidividual  wlio  happens  to  possess 
indications  of  a  crop.  After  scraping,  polis]lill^•.  and 
carefully  inspecting  the  skin,  the  barber  trims  tlie 
eyelashes,  tinting  them  at  times,  and  probes,  shaves. 
and  scrapes  the  ears,  nose,  and  tongue.  Still  grcati  r 
attention  is  given  to  combing:,  cleansing,  oiliu''",  and 
inter-phiiting  the  queue  with  a  long  silk  ta.ssel.  Tin 
Chinaman  issues  refreshed  in  spirit,  and  confinnid  in 
his  hopes  of  heaven.  The  abolition  of  the  (jueiii' 
would  be  a  great  stritle  toward  breaking  the  banier 
of  Cliinese  conservatism,  and  of  opening  tlic;  way  fur 
western  civilization. 

The  care  given  to  tlio  head  is  by  no  means  extruded 
to  the  bodv,  although  tlie  dress  indicates  neatness. 
Among  the  Chinese  in  San  Fi'ancisco  there  has  imt 
been  found  a  sufficient  number  to  support  a  sinul'' 
bath-house;  one  which  was  opened  by  a  rasli  spi'ula- 
tor  had  to  close  its  doors.  Nor  are  the  accoininnda- 
tions  of  the  lod'jjinu -houses  of  a  character  to  admit 
even  of  a  sponge  bath. 

The  favorable  inijiression  made  at  the  first  by  tin' 
China  ])ovs,  as  they  were  called,  was  not  destined  u< 
last.     If  John  was  mild-mannered,  he  was  also  arttnl 


i.i.i). 


CHINESE  CHARA(  TKUISTICS. 


S15 


011(1  insinuatino'.  Although  ])e  was  so  inoftensive,  so 
uiiiil)trUvsivo  and  retiring,  jot  lie  was  soon  found  to 
be  no  less  positive  than  he  was  exclusive.  To  his 
uimiuc  dress  and  customs  he  had  clung  so  long  that 
Ii(>  could  not  in  a  moment  shako  them  off.  The  pro- 
oivss  wliicli  two  thousand  v*  ars  a<jjo  was  arrested  in 
iiiiii,  mad(!  frigid  by  the  ghosts  of  his  own  conjuring, 
(■(Uild  not  be  innnediately  tliawed  even  by  a  Californian 
sun.  Tliere  w.as  in  him  no  sentiment  or  sympathy 
that  Christianity  could  reach.  Otier  him  wliat  we 
iinKt  lii'jhlv  prize,  he  had  better.  Our  clotlies  were 
liungling  l)eside  liis.  In  eating,  what  is  the  use  of 
so  much  clatter  of  knives  and  forks, when  chop-sticks 
answer  every  purpose?  Offer  him  our  alp]ial)et,  and 
lie  shows  us  one  his  forefathers  used  wlieii  ours  were 
yet  savages.  Offer  him  our  religion,  our  (;io(l,  our 
lu^aven,  he  has  scores  of  his  own  manufacture  better 
;ni(l  cheaper.  Offer  liim  silver  and  gold,  and  there 
you  touch  him;  that  is  liis  only  vulnerable  jxiint. 

With  the  sudden  arresting  of  his  material  progress, 
'lis  iiiiiid  likewise  seems  to  have  become  fossilizi'd. 
l)ut  not  so  his  passions.  Or  if  they  Wv're  brought  to 
a  jiause.  it  was  after  being  thoroughly  roused.  For 
suoli  unruffled  outwardness  when  at  rest,  John  has  a 
most  ungovernabU^  temper  when  stirred.  Vou  may 
lall  it  cournge  or  desperation,  but  when  once  com- 
iiiittcd.  he  cares  no  more  for  liis  life  than  you  for 
yiiur  little  finger.  Ho  will  not  willingly  rush  into 
danger;  in  fact  he  will  go  far  out  of  his  way  to 
aviiid  it:  but  once  entangled  there  is  no  tig-M-  move 
savag(\  It  is  when  h^  lias  given  u]t  all  hop(  tiial  he 
is  strongest. 

We  like  things  because  they  arc  new;  the  China- 
man likes  them  because  they  are  old.  Water  when 
innncrsed  in  sulphurous  acid  will  IVcczc  if  thrown  on 
a  hot  iron  plate.  So  with  th'  "  siatic,  coated  by  the 
unwavering  customs  of  centuries,  when  suddenly 
tlu'own  into  the  furnace  fire  of  the  Californian  Inferno. 
His  traditions  froze  to  him  all   the  closc^r.     (^hange 


fi. 


ii 


I 


II: 


I       .1       .J 


*i:il 


316 


MONGOLIANISM   IN  AMERICA. 


might  be  the  only  fixed  phenomenon  of  the  universe; 
it  might  apply  to  mountains,  and  seas,  and  planets, 
but  the  word  had  no  significance  for  John.  Like  om- 
niscience, lie  is  unchangeable. 

Neither  have  the  Chinese  been  fortunate  in  convert- 
ing America.  Though  they  brought  hither  their 
gods,  and  erected  temples,  our  priests  were  obdurate, 
and  our  people  profane.  Hard  were  our  hearts,  into 
which  the  truths  of  their  ancient  culture  and  their 
blessed  religion  would  not  sink.  Our  hoodlums  made 
martyrs  of  some  of  them,  or  at  least  mince-meat ;  nuui}' 
of  them  we  reviled,  and  some  we  crucified. 

The  Asiatic  olfactorv  organs  were  earlv  educated 
to  smells  repugnant  to  the  uninitiated  ;  and  the  Chi- 
nese culinary  and  tonsorial  arts,  the  chop-sticks  exer- 
cise, and  the  vermin-hunting,  as  witnessed  from  the 
sidewalk,  to  sav  nothing  of  the  vvinninij;  wiles  of  eat- 
voic(.'d  sirens,  by  which  were  enticed  from  the  jiatlis 
of  virtue  the  noble  hod-carrier,  the  restaurant  cook  and 
the  sailor,  and  the  thick,  putrid  atmos])here  wJiicii 
issued  from  opium  and  gambling  dens — these  and  like 
infelicities  turned  the  Euroi)ean  stomach. 

And  most  unkind  of  all,  most  ungrateful,  most  dia- 
bolical, John  would  not  become  a  Melican  man.  Af- 
ter all  the  advantaoes  oiv':>n  him  to  cease  his  swinish- 
ness,  and  rise  to  the  dignity  of  a  member  of  this 
greatest  of  connnonwealths,  to  become  the  fir.st  of 
created  things  under  the  first  of  creators,  an  Amerieaii 
citizen,  a  voter,  with  the  privilege  to  manipulate  jui- 
maries,  to  stutt"  ballot-boxes,  to  fight  and  get  drunk 
gratis  at  elections,  to  dodge  his  taxes,  and  swear  biji 
round  Chri.stian  oaths;  aye,  and  with  tin;  privilcue 
even  of  holding  office,  with  all  its  glorious  honors  and 
perquisites,  such  as  bestowing  favors  and  granting 
contracts,  half  the  proceeds  from  which  by  some  mys- 
terious process  should  find  their  way  into  his  own 
j)ocket;  and  accepting  bribes,  and  punishing  all  liont  st 
c'Hort  made  for  the  «'ood  of  the  country — as  he  deiliiicd 
all  these  blessings  and  privileges,  the  great  Anierieaii 


CHINESK  AND  .TAPAXKsE. 


317 


heart  became  estranged  from  its  Asiatic  brother,  an<l 
we  cursed  him. 

Xow,  John  might  go  to  the  devil ;  nay,  lie  nmst  go 
tlwrv.  It  became  the  immediate  duty  of  t^very  Amer- 
ican citizen  to  send  him  there.  Sunday-school  teachers 
luij^lit  make  an  angel  of  him  if  they  liked,  and  give 
him  wings;  tliere  was  no  special  objection  to  that; 
Init  out  and  away,  any  whither,  .Fohn  must  go  ;  for  in 
California  lie  had  sinned  unpardonably,  he  would 
not  i)e  a  voter.  He  would  not  spend  his  money  dritik- 
iii<;  bad  whiskey  ;  opium  was  good  enough  for  him. 
Horso-racing,  midnight  roarings,  faro,  monte,  poker, 
or  seven  up,  he  did  not  care  to  cultivate,  preferring  the 
oM  ixamblinu  tTinK";;  "us  juother  taui»ht  him  while  vet 
a  little  boy  vi  t.  ;  \  A  half-century  of  steady 
cursing  confirms  I  lie  iiabit. 

The  miners  were  the  first  to  see  that  Joluj  woukl 
not  do  for  America.  For  a  time  the  Asiatic  was  a 
favorite  along  the  foothills  as  in  the  <'ities.  He  used 
to  build  his  little  hut  under  the  bank  down  by  the 
stri'ain,  away  from  the  rude  noise  of  the  camp,  and  at 
a  rt>spoctful  distance  from  the  six-foot-four  men  from 
Kentucky  and  Missouri.  Seeing  the  Melican  men  go 
fntli  to  prospect,  he,  too,  sought  the  ravines  and  upper 
folks  of  the  streams  which  drained  the  Sierra  slo[)es; 
and  l)oing  as  artless  as  he  was  iimocent  in  those  days, 
whenever  he  was  successful  he  dil  not  hesitate  to  dis- 
play the  results  of  his  good  fortuiie  to  his  big  brother 
of  the  free  and  greai  ;  ?pid/li<  But  wheji  told  to 
loav(!  the  rich  digging  \viucli  ho  Iwxl  found:  wiien  he 
siiw  outstretched  from  the  br.,  v:  y  Tcmu'ssi'oan's  fist 
a  mighty  finger,  pointing  away  from  his  claim  toward 
the  old  worked-out  bars  and  rl\or  banks  ludow,  and 
heard  the  classic  ejaculations,  "'(litl  A'^amouso  I  (Jo I" 
then  the  single  heart  became  twenty,  and  the  single 
eye  saw  divers  ways,  anfl  John  grew  .'^ly  an<l  cunning, 
mid  thenceforth  would  n-  tell  his  great-souled  brother 
all  he  knew.  The  ?;">  •  the  western  border  man 
abused   the   Asiatic,  the  i    au  he   hated  him;  and 


'!    i 


318 


MONOOLIANLSM   I^T  AMERICA. 


li'-Ktii 


theiicefocli  to  this  day  John  has  scarcely  had  a  friend 
in  tliis  all-enibracing  repubUc. 

Ill  1800  canio  from  Japan  distinguished  visitors; 
an. I  in  trutli  it  made  the  gods  on  high  Olympus  lau^li 
to  see  these  so  lately  wliite-skinned  growlers  toasting 
tliemselves  drunk  at  public  expense  over  Asia's  latent 
sent,  and  all  because;  they  were  not  laborers  who 
would  interfere  with  the  rights  of  our  European  mas- 
ters. It  was  well  to  honor  these  great  ones  of  Asia; 
and  yet  the  gods  did  laugh  1  Were  not  these  Vfry 
islander-\vorshii)pors  grinding  their  neighbors  of  the 
mainland  day  by  day  into  the  very  dust,  stoning  tliciii 
in  the  street,  dogging  them  i;  ■  •'•'dative  halls,  and 
cutting  their  tails  in  court,  and  i,  cause  they  wvw 
poor,  and  the  uncombed  voters  froni  Europe  demanded 
it?  To  the  naked  eye  there  is  little  in  point  of  iiiciit 
to  distino'uish  between  these  men  of  Asia.  One  is  a 
newer  convert  than  the  other;  one  wears  tlie  Itaii 
mixed  with  silk  in  a  long  i)endant  braid,  the  other 
docks  the  well-greased  tail  and  points  the  stub  fur- 
ward;  one  shaves  all  but  the  crown,  while  the  other 
shaves  the  crown  and  nothing  else ;  one  wears  wooden- 
soled  shoes,  the  other  sandals.  Surely  these  grave 
distinctions  should  bo  sufficient  to  satisfy  reasonable 
gods  why  men  display  worshipful  affection  for  one 
co})per-colorcd  Asiatic  and  such  diabolical  hatred  for 
another. 


A  visitor  to  San  Francisco's  Chinatown  feels  as  if 
he  had  been  suddenly  transferred  to  another  land. 
Yet  he  finds  no  pagodas  with  curved  eaves  and  nunifier- 
less  stories,  no  oriental  palaces  with  gardens  and  cool- 
ing fountai: '?,  no  picturcsquo  bamboo  huts  with 
trailing  vines,  but  only  a  series  of  diiiLjy  brick  build- 
ings  in  American  style,  mingled  here  and  there  with 
some  old-fashioned  frame  house,  but  the  whole  1  tears, 
nevertheless,  an  outlandish  look.  Balconies  abound, 
running  either  the  whole  length  of  the  house,  or 
appearing  in  detached  fragments  at  the  wmdow-^  on 


SAN    KKANnsrOs   CHINATOWN. 


31U 


(JiUlient  stories.  Tliey  are  frequently  of  a  cluintiy 
(oii;>truction,  like  coops,  and  disfi^L>ure  the  buildingjs 
witli  their  superstructures  of  boards  ami  trellis-work 
scrvini^'  for  pantries,  and  with  their  lines  and  poles 
wlicrcon  dilapidated  garments  are  fluttering.  Their 
fliitf  use,  however,  is  for  holding  plants,  which  relieve 
t'le  dingy  exterior  with  streaks  of  bright  green,  shed 
illiuiiinating  rays  of  beauty,  and  refresli  the  stale  at- 
iii()>pliere.  They  form  the  sole  adormnent  of  the 
windows,  whose  curtains  are  the  incrustated  dust, 
(ha{Kd  in  cobwebs  and  red  paper  charms.  Many 
(lours  and  windows,  oven  in  the  upper  stories,  arc  pro- 
tcctt  d  <»n  the  outside  witli  heavy  wooden  bars,  form- 
iiiLi'  souvenirs  of  tlie  oft-threatening  outbrci^'s  against 
tlu'  (ii(Uj)ants.  Huge  and  tiny  signboards,  ail  lengtli 
and  Mi>  breadth,  with  vertical  inscriptions  in  led. 
lila(l<,  oi'  gold,  on  red  or  green,  white  or  black  ground, 
tlaiuiL  their  moral  and  florid  titles  in  all  directions. 
Often  the  board  combines  all  the  colors  of  the  rain- 
bow, as  well  as  fret-work,  and  is  surmounted  by  a 
<ano[)y  of  rt>d  cloth.  Every  house  in  Dupont  street, 
till'  central  artery  of  this  network  of  jSIongolian  veins, 
liiais  ;i  number  of  these  siijns,  indicating  one  continu- 
nils  line  of  stores  and  worksho])s,  whence  issue  the 
blows  of  hammers,  the  rasj)  of  files,  the  click  of  S(;w- 
iiiLj-niachines,  to  mingle  with  the  tramp  of  feet.  The 
fountain-head  of  wealth  and  center  of  trade  lie  in  Sac- 
ramento and  Commercial  streets,  which  are  almost 
•  iitiivly  occupied  by  the  stores  and  offices  of  wholesale 
iiicreliants,  guarded  by  strong  in^n  doors  in  green  and 
black.  The  approaches  are  clean,  and  the  interior 
Woodwork  has  generally  a  yellow  grained  surface. 
Huge  ])iles  of  rice  bags  and  tea  chests  fill  one  side  of 
t\\c  store,  while  the  others  are  covered  with  pigeon- 
holes and  drawers  containing  silks,  drugs,  fancy  gt)ods, 
and  samph's.  On  one  side  of  the  entrance  stretches 
T.  (•t)unter,  behind  which  is  seated  a  number  of  clerks 
ill  small,  dark  blue  caps,  with  a  red  button  in  the 
t'lown,  who  regard  the  visitor  with  calm  indifference, 


3ao 


MONdOLIANLSM    IX   AMEKICA. 


*  ■-,.. 


:|i 


i  i  K) ;  Ih 


mm 


v]  .'Ik 


;;!li 


while  near  the  window,  beliiiicl  a  red  {ind  green  raiHnfr, 
is  the  book-keeper,  busily  painting  hieroglyphics  with 
his  nimble  brush.  Numbers  of  loungers  occupy  the 
benches  outside  the  counter,  and  chat  or  gaz(>  with 
]>lacid  contentment  on  the  scene  before  them.  Tlic 
retail  stores  are  nearly  all  in  Dupont  street,  and  no- 
ticeable by  their  motley  dis})lay  in  the?  window  nt' 
white-soled  slippers,  opium  and  tobacco  pipes,  dom- 
inoes and  markers,  chinaware,  from  small  tea  howls 
to  stately  vases,  dolls,  and  ima*j[es  of  fat-bellied  LTods 
and  draped  babies,  charms,  sham  jewelry,  fans,  Juj)aii- 
ese  ware  and  cabinets,  artificial  boufjuets  illuminated 
with  tinsel  and  set  with  images,  and  other  strange 
gimcracks.  The  pigeon-holes  within  arc  closely  filled 
with  packages  in  curiously  figured  characters.  Sonic- 
times  an  entres(d  is  to  Ite  seen,  with  a  crowd  of  busy 
W(n-kmen,  while  below  sit  the  usual  loungers,  mingling' 
their  tobacco  smoke  with  the  whiffs  of  the  equally 
languid  men  behind  the  counter.  From  an  adjoiiiiivjj 
store  comes  an  unintermitting  click,  and  within  are  a 
do/A'n  Chinamen  in  dark  blue  habiliments  bending  eacli 
o\er  a  sewing  machine,  and  turning  out  in  rajtid  suc- 
cession overalls  and  slop  goods,  shirts  and  embroidery, 
a  work  at  which  they  have  surpassed  the  white  motlier. 
encund)ered  with  her  troop  of  children,  and  are  out- 
strip[)ing  her  delicate  daughters.  A  little  beyond  is 
/.  cvjfixr  f'actorv,  still  more  crammed  with  a  busv  crowd, 
which,  seated  at  a  long  table,  roll  soothing  Hahanas 
for  raving  anti-coolie  men.  On  the  opposite  side  arc 
Several  tinsmiths,  doing  a  large  business  not  only  for 
their  own  peoide,  but  for  those  enterprising  white  men 
who  always  seek  the  (dieapest  market.  Here  and 
there  a  watchmaker  occupies  a  portion  of  a  store,  and 
finds  good  emplo^'inent  in  mending  alarm  clocks  tor 
laborers.  (»r  watches  for  departing  miners. 

At  the  entrance  to  a  lodging-house  a  cobbler  lias 
installed  himself  with  a  stool  and  some  implements, 
and  is  bending  over  his  horn  spectacles,  intent  on  a 
boot  of  suspiciously  white-foot  dimensions.     Just  eut- 


■,'.    til 


HOME  MANUFACTURES. 


321 


side,  a  fruit  vender  has  erected  his  stall,  glad,  perhaps, 
to  pay  a  rental  for  the  privilege  of  obstructing  the 
iu)no\v  sidewalk.     The  fruit  is  divided  into  tiny  lots ; 
li  avcs  arc  rolled  into  cornucopias  to  hold  a  mixture 
iit'li'4  cake,  almond,  and  melon,  all  cut  into  the  small- 
est of  slices.     Dried  fruits  of  uninvithig  aspect  and 
stranj^o  appearance  fill  various  compartments  ;  grcasj- 
cakes  in  yellow  papers  and  of  rancid  taste  minglo  with 
hiuis  and  confectionery  in  towering  pyramids.     Near 
liy  stands  a  crowd,  entranced  by  the  celestial  strains 
of  twanging  guitars  and  clasiliing  cymbals,  which  issue 
t'roiii  a  gaudy  building  in  front  of  them.     The  facade 
is  painted  in  imitation  of  gray-streaked  marble,  which 
sinks  in  a  bright  green  toward  the  upper  story,  and  is 
covered  with  arabesque  decoration  here  and  there, 
surmounted  by  a  gaudy  cornice.     It  has  two  long  low 
halcoiiios  of  wood,  with  railing  in  red  and  green,  and 
with  innumerable  fringes  and  fret-work  in  a  medley 
(if  ('t)l()rs.     Fanciful  lanterns  of  paper  and  of  figured 
glass,  round  and  octangular,  hang  from  the  blue  ceil- 
ings of  the  balconies,  while  the  floors  are   set  witli 
long-Icaved  plants  and  dwarfed  trees.     Some  of  the 
windows  have  stained  glass,  and   one  in  the  center  is 
circular.     Tliis  is  one  of  the  half  dozen  gcod  restau- 
rants in  the  quarter,  doubly  interesting  from  the  fact 
that  they  are  the  only  buildings  of  a  true  Chinese  as- 
pect,forming  a  most  agreeable  break  in  the  monotonous 
(hngyness  around.     The  lower  story  is  used  as  a  store 
for  the  sale  of  crockery  and  dried,   preserved,  and 
cooked  articles  of  food.     The  regular  provision  stores 
arc  met  with  at  frequent  intervals  along  the  street, 
appealing  to  eyes  and  nose  with  squalid   stalls  and 
half  putrified  delicacies;  disjointed  pieces  of  meats  are 
oast  in  all  directions,  and  suspicious  looking  carcasses 
of  smoked  pig  dangle  from  the  hooks.     Pigeon-holes 
and  stands  are  filled  with   fresh,  salted,  and  prepared 
vc;^v(.tables,  fish,  and  fruits ;  while  a  role  of  poles  and 
>tiings  in  the  ceiling  suppo)*t  dried  fowl,  roots,  and 
Hitches  of  bacon. 

Kss.vYs  AND  Miscellany     2i 


ii  i! 


322 


MONdOLIANLSM   I!;  AMERICA. 


Every  now  and  then  a  papered  and  lighted  passage 
may  be  seen,  turning  off  at  an  angle,  and  with  a 
watchnian  at  tlie  entrance.  They  are  approaclies  to 
the  notorious  ffaniblincj  dens  from  which  Caucasians 
have  long  shice  been  excluded,  owing  to  race  aiitiiNi- 
thy  and  fear  of  denouncement.  Almost  side  by  side 
of  them  are  workshops  where  there  is  no  cessatic»n  oi 
toil  even  on  the  Sabbath,  and  where  Chinamen  may 
be  seen  manufacturing  boots  and  shoes  or  eiuars,  en 
bending  low  over  their  sewing  machines,  with  back> 
that  never  tire. 

The  sidewalks  teem  with  life,  particularly  in  t'lie 
evening,  when  the  workmen  flock  in  from  factorits 
and  sliops,  and  on  Sundays,  when  tlie  outl\  iiit: 
Mongol  settlements  contribute  their  quota  to  amuse- 
ment-seekers and  market-folk.  It  is  then  that  tlic 
celestial  cuticle  most  expands  and  adds  to  the  odijrif- 
erous  medley  of  burning  sandal-wood  and  singed  pit!', 
of  much-used  gutters  and  reeking  cellars.  Dosi)it( 
the  throng  the  order  is  admirable,  and  the  aliiKUHl- 
eyed  glide  noiselessly  along  in  their  peculiar  siiiulo 
file,  winding  in  and  out  between  stalls  and  lookt  rs-^ii. 
or,  stojjping  occasionally  to  listen  to  the  falsetto  wliirh 
wails  to  the  twang  of  the  ouitar  from  the  attic,  cr  t(» 
the  din  of  the  orchestra  from  the  theatre.  AVitli 
these  vie  the  yells  of  the  cake  and  nut  i)edlars,  pm- 
claiming  the  excellence  of  their  wares,  whicli  for 
greater  effect  are  stowed  in  a  glaring  red  toy  jvink, 
illuminated  fore  and  aft.  Occasionally  a  rival  .sliouti  r 
flits  past  with  a  board  on  his  head,  supporting  a  lit 
of  thi  cups  with    nondescript    delectable  conipouiids. 

Scarcely  less  crowded  are  the  by-streets,  wlioiv  tie 
roofs  wave  with  showy  linen,  and  where  the  sky  i> 
almost  hidden  by  clouds  of  laundry-stuff;  but  all  are 
hurrying  along,  for  no  show-windows,  no  illuminattd 
restaurants,  allure  them.  The  most  noticeable  f(  atiiK 
is,  perhaps,  the  well-known  sign  of  washing  and  iron- 
ing, painted  in  red  letters  on  white  grf)und,  evidently 
by  some  Chinese  artist,  to  judge  from  the  wavy  out- 


STREETS  AND  ALLEYS. 


3-J3 


lino  of  the  letters,  and  the  precedence  accorded  to 
some  among  them,  whicli  rise  above  the  level  of  the 
rest.  A  gust  of  wind  comes  laden  with  the  peculiar 
odor  of  a  Mongol  laundry;  a  mingling  of  vapors  from 
drying  clothes,  wasted  opium,  and  singed  linen.  The 
int.  rior  has  a  tinge  of  the  oriental  in  its  bronzed 
figui-cs, robed  in  short  flowing  drawers,  and  over  them 
a  wide  blouse,  both  of  spotless  white  cotton,  an  ad- 
vertisement of  their  craft.  Some  are  spouting  a  fine 
rain  upon  the  petticoats  before  them,  others  are  busily 
passing  and  repassing  the  irons  which  have  been 
heated  on  the  stove  in  the  center  of  the  room,  while 
a  few  idlers  who  probably  form  a  part  of  the  night 
gang  of  the  scrubbing  brigade,  are  smoking  in  dreamy 
indolence. 

At  short  intervals  in  the  lane  a  gap  invites  into  a 
labyrinth  of  alleys  blocked  by  superstructures,  frail 
corridors  of  wood  which  run  along  the  upper  stories, 
and  form  an  elevated  thoroughfare,  after  the  fashion 
of  Chinese  cities,  while  the  ground  beneath  is  bur- 
rowed into  a  maze  of  cellar  habitations.  You  .shrink 
from  one  slimy,  greasy  wall  only  to  encounter  its 
noinldwr;  you  step  hurriedly  off  the  rotten  plaiik, 
spurting  its  mire,  only  to  land  in  a  cesspool ;  sleek  rats 
cross  lazily  before  you;  puffs  of  fetor  greet  you  from 
every  opening;  unhinged  doors  disclose  rickety  stair- 
ways to  squalid  lodgings,  or  dismal  entrances  to  fetid 
ccllai's.  Here,  in  Bartlett  alley,  the  thieves  and 
ragpickers  hold  their  sessions ;  further  on,  in  Stout 
alley,  bedizened  females  beckon  to  the  visitors  from 
the  square  port-hole.  The  smoke  from  kitchen  fires 
at  the  doors  spread  a  haze  around,  as  if  to  dim  the 
glan^  of  vice  and  shame. 

Vou  gaze  at  the  mass  of  humanity,  you  think  of 
the  narrow  limits  of  the  quarter,  and  you  are  puzzled 
to  know  how  and  where  it  lives.  But  John  has 
thori  'Ughly  studied  the  economy  of  space,  and  worked 
hard  on  the  problem  of  compressing  the  largest  num- 
ber into  the  smallest  compass.     Nothing  is  wasted. 


ipi:' 


i-l 


:■  -t 


VM' 


M 


I'll; 


M;f 


Sif        ! 


324 


MONGOUANISM  TN  AMERICA. 


Every  rook,  from  garret  to  collar,  which  can  by  my 
possible  moans  bo  made  to  receive  the  body  of  a  man, 
IS  made  available.  Every  breath  of  air  is  jDrosstd 
into  service  to  fulfill  its  vitalizing  functions.  Yet  tin; 
supply  is  here  so  restricted  as  to  raise  the  question 
wliether  a  Chinaman's  lungs  are  not  formed  on  a 
difterent  principle  from  ours,  or  changed  in  accord- 
ance with  the  doctrine  of  adaptation.  He  certainly 
seems  to  thrive  in  stench  where  others  would  suttbcati;. 
This  inunonse  comnmnity  of  men,  as  it  may  be  tornud, 
is  composed  chiefly  of  the  peasant  class  who  knows 
little  or  nothing  of  luxuries  or  even  comforts.  They 
ask  for  bare  subsistence  and  a  nook,  two  feet  by  five 
— anywhere. 

It  was  not  unusual  to  find  a  dozen  men  ensja<jo(l  in 
various  industries,  all  within  the  confined  space  of  as 
many  feet  square ;  and  where  the  floor  could  not  ac- 
connnodate  them,  an  entresol  was  constructed,  so  tliat 
the  men  lived  literally  on  the  top  of  one  another, 
working  and  cooking  on  the  benches  by  day,  smoking 
and  sleeping  on  or  beneath  them  at  night. 

In  the  alleys  were  rooms  six  feet  square,  and  of 
the  same  height,  containing  five  to  six  sleepers.  ])ur- 
ing  two  months  of  1875,  800  Chinamen  were  arrested 
under  the  cubic-air  ordinance,  and  75  of  them  were  ta)a  n 
from  one  room  in  the  Globe  hotel,  which  contained  a 
superior  class  of  tenants,  and  was  occupied  by  oidy 
about  seven  times  the  number  intended  to  fill  it.  To 
secure  them  against  poHce  raids,  many  rooms  wcrefitti  d 
with  traps,  in  floor  or  ceiling,  by  which  the  occupants 
might  escape  before  the  door  could  be  broken  in. 
Yet  policemen  might  daily  be  seen  driving  a  team  ( f 
Mongolians  by  their  queues  to  the  prison  where  tluy 
had  to  practise  respiration  in  a  still  smaller  cubic  area 
till  the  fine  of  ton  dollars  was  paid. 

The  fire  ordinance  is  infringed  to  a  more  dangerous 
extent.  The  chief  safe-guard  against  a  general  <  oii- 
flagration  lies  probably  in  the  filtliy  and  moist  condi- 
tion of  the  buildings.     An  army  of  police  would  be 


WITHIN  THE  WALLS. 


325 


required  to  enforce  tlio  Vcarious  sanitary  and  safety 
regulations.  As  it  is,  liardly  a  due  proportion,  out  of 
the  police  foi'ce  of  the  city,  has  been  stationed 
liere,  aside  from  the  few  specials  employed  by  the 
Ciiiuc'se.  The  proximity  of  the  City  Hall  is  regarded 
as  a  sufficient  t)tfset,  particularly  since  the  Cliinese 
rarely  attack  white  men. 

I  have  already  dwelled  on  the  ropulsiveness  of  the 
streets  and  alleys  ;  but  the  neglect  and  squalor  on  the 
outside,  the  dust-encrusted  windows,  the  stained  and 
cracked  walls,  the  cornices  fringed  with  dirt,  are  as 
nothing  compared  with  the  interior.  The  walls  ooze 
a  fetid  slime,  the  passages  reek,  the  bannistcis  have  a 
claimny  touch.  A  dusky  nmltitude  crowds  round 
tlie  stairs  ;  faces  swarm  at  every  door,  inhaling  ]ioison, 
exhaling  worse ;  eyes  stupefied  with  drugs  jx-er  from 
every  opening.  At  intervals,  in  passages,  or  in  alleys, 
are  small  hearths,  more  or  less  rude,  serving  for 
kitclicus.  Chinmeys  are  not  regarded  as  needful, 
even  in  the  rooms,  and  their  absence  may,  indeed,  be 
apjijaudod  as  a  sanitary  measure. 

If  the  passages  have  repelled  you,  how  much  more 
will  the  rooms,  if  you  can  but  nerve  yourself  to  en- 
dure for  a  moment  the  concentrated  odor  from  opium. 
putriHed  food,  and  human  efHuvia  which  belches  forth 
on  opining  the  door.  The  walls  are  lined  with  bunks, 
or  rather  shelves,  about  four  feet  wide,  fixed  or  hang- 
ing, and  one  above  the  other.  A  straw  mat  forms 
the  bed,  for  the  celestial  has  a  contempt  for  effiminat- 
ing  1)1  listers,  and  in  this  breath-heated  place  he  needs 
hut  little  covering,  other  than  the  underclothing  which 
is  retained  for  the  ni^ht.     At  the  head  is  a  narrow 

111 

liar,  fixed  a  little  above  the  shelf,  or  else  a  wooden 
Uock,  to  serve  for  pillow.  A  cross-piece  holds  the 
lamp,  at  which  the  occupant  lights  his  never-failing 
pipe  of  opium  or  tobacco,  wherewith  he  seeks  the 
gates  of  paradise,  and  then  the  oblivion  of  sleej),  for 
which  he  shows  wonderful  powers.     In  the  centre  of 


326 


MONOOLIANISM   IN  AMERICA. 


s.  ■■ 


^m\  ' 


the  room  is  a  t.il)l(',  and  on  it  a  lamp,  consistiiij^'  of  a 
glass  tumbler  fillud  with  oil,  in  which  a  jMHuliar  ('hi- 
n»'.so  weed  supports  the  wick.  Around  this  the  occu- 
pants chatter  and  gamble,  lounge  and  smoke.  ( )ii 
Sundays  washing  and  menduigare  the  rule,  for  despite 
iiis  surroundings  the  Chinaman  endeavors  to  picsciit 
a  tidy  person.  There  is  often  no  room  for  a  stove, 
and  the  fire  for  cooking  is  held  in  a  brazi(^r  or  dish. 
The  Mongolians  congregate  no  less  for  society  than 
for  purposes  of  economy.  One  dollar  a  month  is 
ample  to  pay  the  rent,  and  yet  he  will  divide  this  ex- 
pense by  subletting  his  bunk  to  another  lodger  duiiiii^ 
the  day,  a  la  Box  and  Cox.  It  is  not  rare  to  find  one 
bunk  occupied  by  three  lodgers,  each  for  eight  hours. 
Such  extreme  econv)my,  such  misery,  is  not  compul- 
sory, even  were  he  doubly  the  slave  we  su})post'  hiui 
to  be.  He  evidently  delights  to  burrow.  If  a  town 
has  a  low,  filthy  (juarter,  he  is  sure  to  feiTct  it  out 
and  occu|)y  it.  lie  would  revel  in  the  Five  ]\)iiits 
of  New  York,  in  the  Seven  Dials  of  London,  in  tlic 
Marinella  of  Naples,  and  speedily  render  them  doulily 
repulsive  with  crowds  and  odors.  Belonging  as  he 
does  to  a  water  population  at  home,  it  is  strange  that 
he  has  not  sought  the  North  beach  of  San  Francisco, 
with  its  congenial  scents. 

His  den  has  also  its  attractive  features.  TIk; 
peculiar  lily  bulbs,  set  in  a  saucer  half  filled  with  white 
stones,  and  fed  by  capillary  attraction  on  the  water 
beneath,  flourish  and  expand  their  emblems  of  jjurity; 
but  in  what  an  atmosphere  1  Stri[>s  of  soiled  red 
paper,  with  moral  maxims  for  the  practice  of  virtue 
and  equity,  flutter  on  the  walls  in  all  directions,  and 
in  many  a  bunk  and  window  a  bunch  of  joss-sticks, 
with  red  and  gilt  papers,  burn  to  propitiate  the 
household  patron,  and  to  exorcise  the  presence  of  «\il. 
But  what  effect  can  these  maxims  have,  what  jiower 
this  god,  when  sunk  so  low  in  material  corruption? 
A  talented  companion  will  often  discourse  witli  phun- 
tive  strain   on   the  guitar,  and  lead  his  listeners  to 


POOR  ANn  RICH. 


887 


srcnos  of  happy  .  liood,  recall  the  gentle  admoni- 
tions of  a  mother,  and  the  pure  emotions  of  youij{j;er 
thus;  but  alas,  dec}),  dreamy  reveries  seem  to  he  the 
only  tVuit  of  these  ctforts. 

All  homes  are  Jjot  like  these,  however.  The  wealthy 
iiiticliant  is  content  with  the  one  small  room  behind 
tlio  store,  but  it  is  the  embodiment  of  neatness. 
Miitliiig  or  carpets  cover  the  Hoor;  the  walls  are 
a(lf>iiud  with  landscape  sketches  on  scrolls,  in  black 
and  colored  ink,  as  well  as  with  American  pictures. 
Un  one  side  stands  a  cushioned  platform,  about  two 
feet  in  height,  with  red  cushions,  enclosed  by  damask 
curtiiins,  and  within  a  smoking-tray  with  all  acces- 
sories. In  this  sanctum  the  proprietor  may  be  found 
(luring  a  great  part  of  the  day,  seated  cross-legged, 
lilu!  a  tailor,  to  enjoy  his  siesta  and  his  pipe,  llanged 
along  the  wall  are  a  series  of  straight- backed  chairs 
and  stools  of  hard  shinhig  wood,  covered  with  loose 
red  cushion  mats.  At  intervals  are  small  tables  of 
tlie  saiir^  material,  and  at  their  feet  stand  high,  nar- 
row, bi  ^,pittoons.  Several  cases  of  shelving  may 
be  see  ..le  for  books,  paper,  and  small  hat-hol(,ler.s, 
others  for  tableware,  wine,  and  fruit.  Behind  the 
door  is  the  bed,  with  mat  or  blanket  lavers  in  lieu  of 
bolsters,  whereon  the  white  sheets  and  blanket  covers 
lie  rolled  up  against  the  wall,  and  at  the  head  a 
woodon  neck-pillow.  This  is  often  devoid  of  a  cushion, 
but  has  a  slight  indentation  for  the  neck,  and  is  par- 
ticularly prized  by  women  to  keep  their  complicated 
hair  structure  intact.  A  few  imaoes,  artificial  bou- 
quets,  and  other  ornaments  are  scattered  about,  and 
among  them  distorted  roots  bearinor  the  form  of 
dragons,  which  were  probably  installed  during  the 
houso-warming  ceremony,  and  have  since  remained  as 
(Jfuardian  patrons  of  the  house.  Married  people  in- 
dulge in  a  little  more  room  than  the  bachelor  of  the 
same  class,  but  the  furniture  even  of  the  merchant's 
laniily  home  is  of  the  simplest,  and  more  limited  than 
at  tJie  store  establishment,  save  an  extra  plant  or  so. 


328 


MONGOLIANISM  IN  AMERICA. 


!:■■>  11 


I.  Hi 


'r;:liri' 


Indeed,  the  wife  is  kept  so  secluded  that  all  show 
may  be  dispensed  with. 

On  the  whole  we  may  conclude  that  the  Mongolian 
shares  with  the  antiquarian  his  superstitious  vtiicra- 
tion  for  dust,  with  the  toper  his  inveterate  fear  of 
water,  with  the  bat  its  dislike  foi*  light.  To  clean  the 
steps  and  walls  would  be  a  loss  of  time  and  labor, 
which  represent  money,  and  his  economic  ideas  recoil 
at  the  mere  njention  of  such  extravagance.  To  stop 
the  hummerable  rat-holes  would  result  in  opening 
fresh  outlets.  His  considerations  for  health  have 
brought  him  to  the  conclusion  that  the  opening  of 
doors  and  windows  for  ventilation  might  expose  liiiii 
to  the  danger  of  a  cold,  and  disturb  his  privacy,  for 
John  is  fond  of  this  luxury  in  his  own  way.  This 
desire  has  doubtless  led  him  to  discover  that  the  in- 
crustated  dust  on  the  window  panes  forms  a  cheap 
and  eftcctive  blind  agahist  the  bleaching  sunliulit.as 
well  as  against  the  prying  eyes  of  neighbors.  Nor 
could  he  endure  to  make  himself  conspicuous  by  a 
proceeding  so  unusual  and  extraordinary  as  cleaning. 

Indeed,  when  we  consider  the  combination  of  cir- 
cumstances by  which  he  is  surrounded,  living  in  a 
lodging  house,  and  sharing  his  room  with  a  dozen 
strangers,  it  is  almost  impossible  for  him  to  make 
even  an  attempt  at  cleanliness.  Besides,  the  close 
air  of  a  crowded  room  is  far  less  objectionable  than 
the  stench  of  human  effluvia,  to  which  his  olfactories 
have  longed  been  trained.  The  dirty  floor,  the  oozing 
walls,  are  purity  compared  with  the  vermin-covend 
garments,  the  leprous  sores,  to  which  his  eyes  and 
touch  have  long  since  become  familiar.  Yes,  he  shuns 
not  daily,  close  contact  with  men  suffering  from  1  or- 
rible  diseases,  and  with  lepers  rotting  away  pieccnual 
before  him.  His  pores,  his  throat,  have  probahly 
become  equally  inured  to  the  rank  efiluvia  whieli 
would  breed  pestilence  in  anyone  else.  Perhaj^s  the 
ever-present  smoke  which  almost  suffocates  t)tlMr.«, 
the  smell  of  loathsome  dishes,  and  tlio  nondescript 


i;  t- 


FILTH  AND  FOOD. 


329 


(xlors  generally  vvliicli  fill  us  with  nausea,  may  be  pre- 
ventives i)f  the  threatening  pest;  the  very  rats  tliat 
srauiper  impudently  before  us,  may  prove  to  be  the 
blessod  scavengers  they  need. 

The  peculiar  rules  of  economy  to  which  tlie  Asiatic 

submits  for  shelter,  are   also  made  to  regulate  his 

palate.     He  is  not  particular  as  to  the  quality  of  his 

food,  and   of  this  the  provision  stores  atibrd   ample 

proof.     The  butcher  who  flourishes  under  tlie  sign  of 

Ton  Thousand  Harmonies,  or  S(Mne  equally  euphoiiiou.i 

title,  scouts  the  idea  of  scraping  his  block,  or  wi[)ing 

his  knife,  as  unproductive  labor,  and  devotes  the  time 

instead  to  plucking  the  minutest  morsel  of  meat  from 

the  bono  before  him.     The  mangled  evidence  of  his 

efforts  is  exposed  on  the  dingy  board,  where  the  pur- 

cliasm-  may  thumb  and  knead  each  piece  to  his  heart's 

contt'nt,  in  order  to  convince  himself  of  its  quality. 

Beef  is  not  nmch  in  vogue,  for  the  Chinaman  regards 

it  as  a  sin  to  kill  boasts  that  are  of  value  for  labor 

8'id  trade.     His  religious  tradition  teaches  that  the 

slayer  of  an  ox  shall  suffer  torments  in  the  world  to 

come,  and  if  permitted  to  be  born  again   it  will   be 

only  in  the  form  of  his  victim.     Pork  is  the  favorite 

meat.     Indeed,  it  is  believed  that  the  Chinese  were 

the  first  to  discover  its  cxcclK'ncios,  and  the  taste 

appears  to  be  all-pervading,  for  every  food,  nay,  almost 

every  object  among  them  has  a  larded  taste,  a  greasy 

tf-ueh.     Whole  piigs  are  roasted  and  displayed  from 

hutc!i(^r's    hooks    in    smoky,    shining    re|uilsiv('ness. 

Pe-ultry  alone,  however,  satisfies   the  higliest  quality 

of  ajtpetite,  and   many  are  the  tricks  to  which   the 

(vh'stials  will   resort  to  secure  the'  bird.     8i)lit  and 

flattened  ducks  and  birds  are   iuiporti'd  from  China, 

whence  comes  the  greater  i)art  of  tlieir  luxuries,  but 

th»>  American  markets  also  receive  a  share  of  their 

earnings.     Fish  of  all  kinds  are  acce])table,  and  some 

'vcn   brought    in  a    fresh    condition   across  the 


arc 


IVillc,  with  the  aid  of  a  [taste  in  which    they  arc 


mM 


330 


MONGOLIAN LSM   IN  AMERICA. 


dipped.  The  Chiiiainaii  is  quite  expert  at  drving, 
curing'  and  preserving  food,  in  his  way,  for  exact 
fresliness  is  not  regarded  as  essential ;  he  has  an  iiinato 
respect  for  the  antique,  wliether  it  is  represented  by 
a  venerable  gray  head,  or  by  a  decayed  cliiekcii. 
The  stateiiieut  that  he  has  a  predilection  for  rats 
arises  probably  from  an  account  of  the  extreniitit  s  to 
vhich  a  famine-stricken  district  may  be  driven.  The 
prisons  of  the  confederate  states  during  the  war  for 
the  union  furnished  similar  stories.  If  he  likes  dogs, 
surely  we  snail-eaters  have  no  rig]  it  to  object. 

Whatever  may  be  the  truth  of  such  insinuations, 
it  is  certain  that  the  staple  food  of  our  Cliinese  is 
boiled  rice,  which  constitutes  their  bread.  Witli  tliis 
they  often  mix  the  less  favored  potatoes,  and  Haver 
the  wliole  with  pork,  fish,  or  spice.  A  bowl  of  this, 
together  with  the  never-failing  tea.  suffices  for  a  meal. 
Tea  is  drunk  at  all  times,  for  water  is  rarely  taken, 
and  tlien  only  when  warmed. 

Tlie  food  is  cooked  on  a  brazier  with  an  al)sur(lly 
small  amount  of  fuel.  The  produce-dealer  often 
unites  a  kitchen  with  his  business,  where  the  custoin(  r 
may  prepare  his  food  ;  merchants  have  usually  tlair 
own  kitchen. 

A  large  patronage  is  diverted  to  the  various  bnaid- 
ing  houses,  which  graduate  from  well-appointed  res- 
taurants to  filthy  cellars.  At  the  latter  the  aceonniie- 
dation  is  of  the  meanest  kind:  a  bare  plank  talile 
surrounded  by  benches;  a  big  bowl  of  rice  and  iM»ik 
in  the  center  of  the  mess,  each  of  whose  members  is 
provided  with  a  pair  o(  pit-fje  nimble  lads,  or  che])- 
stiek.s,  about  six  inches  in  length,  and  with  two  small 
bowls,  oiu!  for  tea,  the  other  for  the  ricc>.  8eoii|iiii:4 
a  bowlful  from  the  connnon  dish,  and  holding  it  with 
one  liand  to  the  lips,  with  the  other  the  Chinaman 
grasps  the  fait-je  l)etween  the  fore-finger  and  tlmmh, 
supporting  their  center  with  thetipsof  themichlleaiHl 
ring-fingers,  and  sweeps  the  contents  into  the  niniitli 
in  one  c(Mitiimous  stream.     Tea  foHows.     The  leanl 


COOKING  AND  WASfflNG. 


331 


at  tlie  cheapest  restaurants  costs  from  eight  to  ten  dol- 
lais  a  month;  but  this  is  considered  extravagant  by 
tilt'  iiow-conicr,  whose  means  are  not  yet  assured.     By 
arling  as  his  own  cook,  sleeping  in  the  smallest  bunk, 
and  wcaringthecheapest  clothes,  he  reduces  the  nionth- 
Iv  expenses  to  six  dollars,  but  this  does  not  include  the 
{•licrished  whifF  of  opium.     As  his  savings  increase  he 
Ix'conies  more  indulgent,  and  even  ventures  to  patron- 
ize the  superior  class  of  restaurants,  where  good  living 
niav  1)0  liad  for  from  fifteen  to  twenty  dollars  a  month, 
aiul  where  he  speedily  develops  the  national  taste  for 
a  variety  of  dishes  and  dece[)tive  mixtures,  not  unlike 
tliat  of  the  French.     He   nmst  have  evervthing  cut 
and  minced,  ready  for  the  stomach.     He  objects  to 
act  as  butcher  at  the  table,  like  tlie  European,  or  to 
li'a\(!  to  teeth  and  digestive  organs  the  work  which 
may  as  well   be  done  by  chopper  and  masher.     An 
indication  of  his  eulinarv  skill  is  the  cunnino-  with 
wliicli  he  obliterates  the  original  taste  or  essejice  of  a 
fond  with  condiments  and  processes.     In  the  propara- 
tinii  of  sauces  he  even  surpasses  Soyer's  countrymen. 
Til"  .lit  with  wliich  Chinese  washermen  regulate  the 
fuuDt'SS  and  direction   of  the  spray  from  his  moutli 
U|ti)n  the  garments,  has  been  a  source  of  admiration 
to  the  uninitiated.     Their  admiration  would  increase 
were  thcv  to  witness  the  dexteritv  with  which   th(> 
cnok  would  mix  the  various  condiments  bv  blowing 
timii  his  mouth  the  exact  quantity  needed  by  the  dish 
hct'Mir  him.     Many  dislies  dopi'ud  entindy  on  adjuncts 
tor  savor;  and  the  taste  as  a  rule  inclim/s  to  rancid  oil 
and  doubtful  lard. 

Ill  order  to  fully  appreciate  celestial  cookery  wo 
liuist  visit  a  leading  icstaurajit.  The  outsido  beams 
Nvitli  attractions:  the  facade  is  a  ijor<j;eous  nicdlev  (d' 
colors,  wherein  red  and  green  predominate;  and  bal- 
conies are  tilled  with  Howers,  lanterns,  and  Hashy  tin- 
sel. The  ground  floor  is  used  asa  provision  store;  on 
the  second  floor  are  the  common  dining-rooms,  and  on 
tilt  third,  the  grand  saloon  for  parties  and  first-class 


332 


MONGOLIAXLS.M  IN  AMERFCA. 


customers.  It  has  false  archways,  with  an  alcovo  for 
niusiciaiis,  and  is  furnished  witli  carved  and  ridily 
[)()lislied  stools,  round  or  square,  and  ponderous,  and 
with  tables  both  of  mahogany  or  dark  Chinese  wdmiI, 
inlaid  with  marble,  and  the  stools  covered  with  sinall 
mats.  This  saloon  is  at  times  formed  into  numerous 
small  divisions  by  screens  or  trellis-work,  ornameiitrd 
with  foliage,  birds,  and  monsters  in  various  colurs. 
Round  tiie  walls  are  lacquered  boxes,  and  caljiiicts, 
musical  instruments,  and  bills  of  fare ;  the  whole  pre- 
sided over  by  tlie  idol  Kwan  Sing.  This  is  the  place 
where  the  grand  banquets  are  given,  in  hcmorof  pmiii- 
inent  men,  (m  the  inauguration  of  an  establislniuiit, 
or  on  the  occasion  of  a  windfall.  Associates  at  a  fac- 
tory will  meet  here  once  a  year  and  testify  thoirj^rat- 
itude  to  a  kind  employer  by  a  supper,  which  ofttii 
costs  from  two  to  ten  dollars  each. 

In  case  of  an  invitation  by  wealthy  merchants,  pink, 
gilt-edged  notes  of  invitation  arc  sent,  with  two  t  a- 
closures,  one  presenting  the  conqiliments  of  the  hosts 
or  their  i)roxy,  the  other  announcing  that  a  sliglit  iv- 
past  awaits  the  light  of  the  guest's  presence.  Tlu' 
reception-room  is  furnished  with  tables,  bearing  trays 
with  cups  and  smoking  material,  from  which  the  ar- 
rivals are  offered  tea  ami  cigars. 

The  dining-room  is  all  aglow  with  lanterns  and 
teeminsf  with  waiters.  The  circular  tables,  wiili 
snowy  covers,  acconnnodate  four  to  twelve  guosts.  l)i  • 
fore  each  of  whom  stands  a  pile  of  tiny  p]at(>s  and 
saucers  of  fine  porcelain,  and  a  saucer  of  Howi  is 
which  are  at  their  disposal.  By  their  side  lies  a  wliito 
silk  na[)kin,  a  porcelain  spoon,  and  a  pair  of  i\"ry 
chopsticks.  Every  guest,  or  set  of  two  to  ft»iii'.  is 
provided  with  two  metal  tankards,  holding  eacli  a  pint 
of  warm  tea  and  liquor  respectively.  The  latter  i-^  ii 
white  brandy,  or  a  red  liquor,  rnnn  qui  lo,  (lisfillid 
from  rice  and  flavored  with  attar  of  roses.  No  s|»it('s 
are  i)rovi(lc(l,  since  the  food  is  supposed  to  be  duly  s^a- 
soned.    Circular  wafers,  about  two  inches  in  diunu  iti', 


AMONG  THE  ARISTOCRACY. 


333 


are  often  used  to  envelop  mciutlifuls  of  food.  Many 
(Jlslirs  are  arranged  in  eartliern  bowls  round  tlic  soup. 

W'luMi  all  are  seated  the  host  returns  thanks  to  tlie 
Ducsts  for  their  attendance,  and  invites  them  to  par- 
take of  the  appetizers,  which  usually  consist  of  cucum- 
bers, pickled  duck,  eggs,  and  ginger,  salted  almonds, 
melon-seeds,  celery,  and  a  variety  of  nuts,  not  forget- 
ting; the  nmo  qui  lo,  which  is  sipped  between  each 
(lisli  after  a  seriatim  bowing  all  around,  and  amidst  a 
hul)hub  of  conversation, 

TIk;  dinner  proper  now  opens  with,  say,  fried 
shark's  fin  and  grated  ham ;  stewed  pigeon  with  bam- 
boo sprouts ;  roast  sucking  pig  ;  boned  duck  stewed 
with  grated  nuts,  pearl  barley,  and  mushrooms;  fish 
simws  with  ham  ;  stewed  chicken  with  chestnuts  or 
water-cress;  dried  oysters  boiled;  bamboo  soup; 
sponge,  omelet,  and  flower  cakes  ;  banana  fritters  ;  and 
biids-nest  soup,  made  with  minced  ham  and  chicken- 
bnast,  and  particularly  with  that  rare  delicacy,  the 
inucilagiiious  sea-moss,  picked  from  the  vaves  by  a 
siiecies  of  swallow  which  frequents  the  coasts  of  Ma- 
lacca and  the  Indian  archipelago.  Their  nests  are 
found  on  the  sides  of  precipitous  cliffs  to  which  access 
can  he  gained  only  by  lowering  a  rope  from  the  sum- 
mit. Their  rarity,  ind  the  trouble  of  gathering,  make 
tiieni  worth  their  weight  in  gold  by  the  time  they 
reacli  San  Francisco.  The  taste  of  the  sou])  is  mjt 
unlike  that  of  vermicelli.  There  are  also  other  dishes 
wliich  cost  up  to  a  dollar  a  mouthful.  A  sip  of  tea 
concludes  the  first  course  ;  and  whatever  the  objec- 
tions may  l»o  to  many  of  the  dishes,  the  stranger  <"in- 
not  hut  admit  the  superiority  of  this  beverage,  con- 
sistiiiif  of  the  first  liijfht  infusion  from  the  most 
delicate  leaves,  which  cost  not  less  than  five  dollars  a 
pound,  rireen  tea  is  avoided  as  being  artificially  ctd- 
"I'cd.  Tea  is  served  in  tiny  blue-flowered  cujis,  with- 
out milk  or  sugar.  The  tea  leaves  are  probably  sent 
to  tlie  lower  story  to  surrender  the  second  and  less 
delicate  eft'usion  to  the  servants. 


I 


334 


MONGOLIANISM  IN  AMERICA. 


.V  I  : 


Each  dish  is  served  cut  and  minced  in  quart  bowls, 
many  of  which  are  silver-plated  and  provided  witli  a 
metal  heater  in  the  centre,  filled  with  coals  to  keep 
the  food  warm.  From  this  the  guests  help  themselves 
to  one  mouthful,  with  the  aid  of  a  spoon  or  chop- 
sticks, and  either  transfer  it  directly  to  the  lips  or 
nibble  it  from  the  tiny  plate  before  them.  The  host 
will  sometimes  honor  the  guest  by  conveying  to  his 
mouth  a  choice  morsel  with  the  chopsticks  just  re- 
moved from  his  own  lips,  or  he  will  place  his  own  rup 
of  liquor  to  his  friend's  lips. 

After  the  first  course  the  company  retires  to  the 
anteroom  for  half  an  hour  to  chat,  smoke  and  gather 
inspiration  from  the  cymbal  clash,  the  twang  of  gui- 
tars, and  the  shrill  strains  of  the  singers,  preparatory 
to  another  onslaught.  After  this  first  course  the 
chief  men  retire,  in  accordance  with  celestial  etiquette; 
after  the  second  course  those  next  in  rank  or  iiiiiiort- 
ance  drop  off;  and  so  the  diminishing  continues  until 
none  but  the  commoner  class  remain  during  tlu;  fol- 
lowing one  or  more  courses,  each  of  at  least  a  dozen 
dishes. 

The  second  course  opens  with  tea  and  liquor,  fol- 
lowed by  lichens;  terrapin-shells,  flavored  with  onion 
and  seasoned  with  water  chestnuts ;  mushrooms  with 
hundred-layer  leek ;  Chinese  quail ;  brocliettes  of 
chicken  hearts ;  more  shark-fins,  fungus,  nuts,  and 
mince  pies  ;  rice  soup,  stewed  mutton,  roast  duck. 
pickled  cucumber,  and  so  on  till  the  stranger  gas) is  for 
breath,  while  the  initiated,  who  knows  what  is  before 
him,  reserves  his  powers,  and  by  only  nibblinjj;  at 
each,  manages  to  taste  of  all.  After  the  second 
course  there  is  an  exchange  of  complimentary  speeches. 

The  desert  presents  an  equally  long  series  of  fancy 
dishes,  of  rather  delicate  cakes  and  nuts  of  all  kinds, 
and  in  the  form  of  birds  or  flowers  ;  water-lily  seed : 
jelly  of  sea-weed  ;  oranges  apparently  fresh,  but  tilled 
with  a  series  of  jelly  layers  of  different  colors :  the 
whole  concluding  with  a  variety  of  fruit,  and  the  tea. 


END  OF  A  GRAND  BANQUET. 


335 


At  the  close  of  the  long  banquet  it  may  happen 
that  the  liquor  has  affected  the  otherwise  temperate 
Asiatic,  who  accordingly  retires  to  the  cushioned 
alcove  in  the  adjoining  opium  room,  eitlier  to  sleep  off 
tilt'  fumes  or  to  seek  the  paradise  hidden  within  the 
divine  drug. 

The  opium  habit  is  fully  as  prevalent  among  the 
Chinese  as  smoking  is  with  us,  although  the  better 
class  ])retend  to  condemn  it  as  severely  as  we  do  hard 
drinking.  The  annual  import  of  the  drug  in  San 
Francisco  is  over  45,000  pounds,  retailing  for  nearly  a 
million  of  dollars,  and  half  as  much  more  is  probably 
8inu;4gled  in  by  steamboat  employes  and  immigrants, 
despite  the  vigilance  of  the  custom-house  officials. 
Tiic  Chinaman  is  generally  content  to  smoke  in  his 
own  bunk,  yet  large  numbers  of  public  resorts  are 
patronized.  The  common  den  is  not  like  the  neatly 
(ushioned  alcoves  of  the  bettci  resfaurants,  where 
each  may  have  a  bunk  to  himself  and  an  attendant. 
A  dingy  barrenness  is  apparent  in  the  rooms  of  the 
lower  class,  despite  the  hazy  atmosphere,  and  among 
tlie  oppressive  odors  of  the  confined  room  that  of  pea- 
nut seems  to  predominate.  In  the  centre  is  a  table 
with  a  liijht,  and  the  walls  are  lined  with  bunks  or 
shtlves,  one  above  the  other,  furnished  witli  a  mat 
and  wooden  pillows,  or  at  most  with  a  suspicious 
looking  l)lanket  or  mattress.  Each  shelf  receives  two 
1110)1,  who  lie  face  to  face,  head  to  the  wall,  and  share 
hetwccn  them  a  peculiar  lamp  with  a  small  flame.  A 
fixed  charge  is  made  for  this  accommodation,  with  a 
pipe,  l)ut  not  including  the  opium,  which  may  be  pur- 
chased at  any  store.  The  pipe  consists  of  a  bamboo 
or  Wood  stem,  nearly  two  feet  long,  with  a  half  inch 
perforation.  To  the  side,  near  the  foot,  is  screwed  a 
covei'ed  bowl  of  stone,  clay,  or  hard  wood,  nearly  two 
inches  in  diameter,  with  a  small  orifice  on  the  cover 
for  tlie  reception  of  the  drug.  This  is  kept  in  a  tiny 
horn  box,  in  the  form  of  a  thm  black  imste,  from  which 


330 


MONGOLIANISM   IN  AMERICA. 


the  smoker  takes  a  drop  on  the  tip  of  a  wire  pin, 
turns  it  over  the  flame  for  a  couple  of  minutes,  wlieii 
it  bubbles  and  hardens  somewhat,  after  which  he 
pushes  it  into  the  orifice  of  the  bowl.  He  then  liolds 
the  pipe  to  the  lamp,  and  placing  the  lips  against  the 
end  of  the  tube,  he  takes  a  deep  pull,  the  pelkt  his- 
sing in  response,  and  the  tube  gurgling.  The  siiKil^e 
is  drawn  into  the  lungs,  retained  for  a  moment,  and 
expelled  in  a  white  cloud  through  nostrils  and  niouth. 
It  takes  but  a  few  whiffs,  and  about  one  minute,  to 
exhaust  the  charge,  and  the  smoker  proceeds  to  re- 
plenish it,  meanwhile  growing  more  and  more  hilari- 
ous or  sullen,  accordmg  to  his  temperament.  At 
last  after  half  a  dozen  or  a  dozen  charges,  with  an  ex- 
penditure at  times  of  nearly  an  ounce  of  the  drug,  the 
smoker  becomes  stupified,  the  hand  and  pipe  dn^p, 
the  head  falls  back,  the  body  relaxes,  and  tlie  s[tirit 
wings  its  way  to  realms  of  bliss.  Mundane  reahties 
fade ;  a  paradise  reveals  itself  wherein  fairy-liko  pal- 
aces invite  the  sleeper  to  enter,  and  bright  fresh  gar- 
dens allure  him  to  repose  ;  where  the  air  vibrates  with 
melodious  strains ;  where  angel  forms  float  upon  an 
ether  of  delicious  perfumes.  After  a  ffsast  of  nectar 
and  ambrosia,  the  soul  meanwhile  revelling  in  joys 
which  words  cannot  describe,  he  awakes  nervous  and 
uncomfortable,  with  a  yet  stronger  desire  for  a  renewal 
of  the  debauch. 

Many  use  opium  in  moderation,  as  a  soothing  re- 
laxation after  the  fatigue  of  the  day,  and  as  a  panada 
for  the  ills  of  the  flesh ;  but  the  drug  is  mo.st  insidious, 
and  more  apt  to  gain  ascendency  than  alcohol.  By 
inhaling  the  smoke  the  system  becomes  saturatttl 
with  the  poison ;  and  as  the  victim  becomes  lost  to  its 
influence  he  passes  the  day  in  listless  misery,  waiting 
only  for  night  when  he  may  escape  it  by  another 
trance.  He  takes  up  his  abode  in  the  den,  and  lies  on 
the  bunk  a  ghastly  pale  figure,  heaving  spasmodically, 
and  with  glassy  vacant  eyes.  He  sinks  into  physical 
and  mental  imbecility,  and  hurries  to  an  early  grave. 


THE  OPIUM  HABIT. 


887 


Good  opium  costs  as  much  as  twenty -five  dollars  a 
pound,  but  the  scrapings  from  the  pipes  are  mixed 
with  tiie  cheaper  kind  sold  to  the  impecunious. 

Numbers  of  strictly  guarded  dens  weie  kept  es- 
pecially for  the  accommodation  of  white  men  of  all 
(lassos,  and  of  abandoned  women,  who  mingled  in 
reckless  disorder.  The  municipality  of  San  Francisco 
was  finally  induced  to  repress  this  growing  danger  by 
iiiipi  )sing  heavy  fines  on  keepers  and  frequenters ;  but 
Chinese  servants  must  have  aided  to  spread  the  vice, 
for  large  quantities  of  opium  are  bought  by  others 
than  Chinamen.  The  not  uncommon  habit  of  eating 
it  is  still  more  dangerous,  as  the  poison  then  enters 
directly  into  the  blood,  and  is  almost  certain  death. 

The  Chinese  also  are  great  smokers  of  tobacco. 
They  use  an  aromatic  tobacco  for  cigarettes,  and  also 
for  i)ipes.  Their  tobacco-pipes  are  ponderous  metal 
cases  of  square  or  fancy  shape,  with  a  receptacle  for  the 
weed  on  one  side,  and  a  pocket  for  water  on  the  other. 
A  small  narrow  tube  fits  into  the  pocket,  and  into  this 
the  tobacco  is  placed  so  that  the  smoke  may  pass 
through  the  water.  On  the  side  of  the  pipe  are 
sheaths  for  holding  trimming  and  cleaning- sticks. 
Betel  nuts  are  chewed  by  many. 

The  most  conspicuous  evidence  of  the  Mongolian's 
presence  among  us,  next  to  his  own  striking  person, 
are  probably  the  signboards  with  their  persuasive  in- 
scrij)tions  of  Shun  Wo,  Hang  Ki,  Ah  Lin,  and  the 
like,  which  stare  us  in  the  face  at  every  turn.  The 
laundry-keeper  who  appeals  to  our  patronage  has  so 
far  infringed  upon  his  conservative  principles  as  to 
announce  his  calling  in  a  style  suited  to  our  barbaric 
ideas,  but  not  so  in  his  own  quarter.  Here  the  pres- 
ence of  another  civilization  is  at  once  made  manifest 
in  the  orientalism  of  the  gaudy  red  and  gilt  letter- 
ing on  the  black  signboard,  which  hangs  vertically, 
sitifnificant  of  the  isolated  and  stationary  character  of 
that  culture.     The  words  may  not  sound  musical  to 

Essays  and  Miscellany    22 


S38 


MOXOOLIANISM  IN  AMERICA. 


I 


our  ear,  but  wlicn  translated  they  certainly  are  most 
flowery,  partaking  indeed  of  the  sublime  and  lujavt'iilv. 
Wo,  for  instance,  with  its  doleful  reminder  of  tcncs- 
trial  miserv,  becomes  "Jiarmony"  in  their  lanLrii.i'c 
and  is  a  favorite  denomination  with  merchants.  Tlio 
nieansounding  Tin  Yuk  is  transformed  into  "heaveiiK- 
jewel."  Eacli  place  of  business  or  abode  has  its  nintto 
or  title,  which  is  chosen  with  the  most  careful  consid- 
eration of  its  lucky  import,  denoting  some  cardiiKil 
virtue,  wish,  or  phrase  of  welcome,  and  couclicd  in 
classic  or  poetic  terms.  The  sign  is  duly  inst.dlid 
with  religious  ceremonies  and  conjurations,  and  !).■- 
neath  its  potent  charm,  for  the  invocation  of  ]d;_dier 
powers,  and  for  the  allurement  of  weak  mortals,  docs 
the  merchant  hide  his  own  cognomen,  in  accordance 
with  the  code  of  celestial  humility.  Every  ohjtft  in 
the  establishment  is  blessed  in  the  same  way.  amid 
appeals  to  various  idols,  and  in  particular  to  J^soi  Pah 
Shing  Kwun,  the  god  of  wealth,  to  whom  all  address 
their  prayers  for  prosperity  and  riches.  The  nrntto 
is  often  made  to  denote  the  obj(^ct  of  the  estaldisli- 
ment.  Thus,  Fragrant  Tea  Chambers,  Balcony  of 
Joy  and  Delight,  or  Chamber  of  Odors  of  Distant 
Lands,  are  apjjlied  to  restaurants.  Hall  of  Joyful 
Relief,  Great  Life  Hall,  or  Everlasting  Spring  cannot 
fail  to  indicate  an  apothecary  shop.  Clothiers  sport 
the  elegant  and  ornamental,  and,  to  make  doubly  sure 
of  recognition,  the  weaving  or  embroidery  of  the  \vt- 
tering  is  made  sugijostive.  The  jeweler's  si'iu  is 
Original  Gold,  or  Flower  Pearls.  The  butchers  liang 
their  notice,  "we  receive  the  ijolden  hoijjs,"  bcncatli 
the  motto  of  Virtue  Aboundinij,  or  Brotherly  I'nion. 
Lottery  establishments  allure  with  Winning  Hall  or 
Lucky  and  Happy,  while  Fan  Fan  saloons  urg(^  you 
to  Get  Rich  and  attain  Heavenly  Felicity.  Besides 
auspicious  signs  of  this  character,  stores  have  another 
board  with  notices  of  the  goods  they  sell.  The  interior 
is  also  decorated  with  a  profusion  of  red  slips  hearing 
moral  quotations,  good  wishes,  or  exhortations,  where- 


SHOP-KEEPINO. 


889 


wltli  to  inspire  the  visitor  with  confidonco  in  the  vir- 
tui'S  of  the  j)la<'0.  Over  tlio  door  may  he  tlie  an- 
iiouneenient  Ten  Thousand  Customers  Constantly 
Aiiiving,  and  immediately  after  tliis  |)atent  falsehood 
lie  fcads  the  assurance  that  Neither  Old  nor  Young 
will  ho  Deceived ;  but,  of  course,  if  he  is  a  Chinaman 
l;c  knows  better  than  that — or  if  he  knows  that  lie 
will  he  deceived,  then  he  is  not  deceived,  and  tho 
iimtto  holds  good.  Nor  is  he  likely  to  abate  one  iota 
of  liis  chattering  before  the  notice,  One  J^ook,  One 
Utterance  Will  Settle  the  Business.  Safes,  scales, 
and  other  articles  bear  such  talismanic  inscriptions 
as  Amass  Gold,  Be  Busy  and  Prosperous. 

I*rivate  houses  are  ecjually  well  provided  with 
wishes.  The  entrance  bearuig  sucli  words  as  ^lay  the 
Vwc  Blessings  Enter;  the  stairway.  Ascending  and 
Descending  Safety  and  Peace;  the  room,  Old  and 
Young  in  Health  and  Peace,  or  May  Your  Wishes  be 
(Jf.ititied. 

Oiu-  more  they  might  have  added.  Familiarity 
breeds  Contenjpt,  and  then  have  thrown  away  the 
whole.  For  here  we  have  the  explanation,  why  the 
celestial  always  remains  so  passive;  and  devoid  of 
nvd'ence  in  face  of  the  array  of  sacretl  and  social 
admonitions.  Nevertlieless,  they  serve  a  purjiose  in 
the  code  of  oriental  politeness,  for  he  of  our  western 
east  does  not  plunge  at  once  into  business  on  making  a 
call.  Time  is  taken  to  exchange  compliments,  par- 
take of  refreshments  and  to  chat,  during  which  the 
maxims  frequently  servo  as  a  theme. 

Shrewd  as  the  Chinese  traders  are  supposed  to  be, 
tluy  have  none  of  the  enterprising  spirit  of  our  dealers. 
No  attempt  is  made  to  displ;>y  goods.  The  few  arti- 
clt's  exhibited  in  the  windows  indicate  no  attemi)t  at 
tasteful  arrangement,  and  no  care  is  taken  to  allure 
the  customt^r  who  enters.  Everything  is  packed  so 
as  to  occu[)y  the  least  space  possible,  although  in  ad- 
mirable onler,  aiul  but  little  r((om  is  left  to  move  in. 
Several  branches  of  business  are  often  carried  on  in 


im 


340 


M0N00IJANI8M  IN  AMERICA. 


I 


11  :v-; 


iii     s 


the  same  shop,  eacli  with  its  desk, where  the  clerk  is 
busy  painting  letters  on  their  light  brown  paper  witli 
brush  and  Indian  ink.  His  system  of  book-kicjiiiiir 
appears  somewhat  complex  to  the  uninitiated,  hut  is 
doubtless  as  clear  and  correct  as  the  method  of  ralcu- 
lating  on  the  abacus  by  his  side.  Among  his  ciuticg 
is  to  send  around  advertisements  of  new  goods,  and 
for  this  purpose  almost  every  place  of  business  is  pio- 
vided  with  a  limited  set  of  types,  engraved  on  }>i(  (•(  s 
of  wood,  one  and  a  half  inches  long  by  three  eightlig 
of  an  inch  square.  In  printing,  each  type  is  separately 
pressed  on  an  ink-pad  and  stamped  on  red  paper,  one 
si<;n  bolow  the  other,  according  to  the  Chinese  mode 
of  reading. 

This  is  the  limit  of  their  enterprise  as  traders,  for 
although  merchant  and  clerk  are  profuse  in  expressions 
of  welcome  and  offers  of  refreshment  and  services,  yet 
the  moment  business  is  entered  upon  they  assume  a 
dignified  nonchalance  that  is  truly  discouraging  to  tlie 
stranger.  Only  the  goods  demanded  are  produced, 
and  til  is  in  abstracted  manner,  as  if  their  thoughts 
were  bent  on  other  subjects. 

There  is  a  number  of  firms  who  have  amassed 
fortunes,  chiefly  by  saving,  although  a  few  have  fallen 
naturally  into  a  large  share  of  the  China  trade,  wherein 
several  millions  have  gradually  been  invested.  These 
great  merchants  keep  their  goods  stored  near  the 
wharves,  and  have  merely  an  office  for  the  transaction 
of  business  in  Sacramento  street  or  elsewhere.  To 
facilitate  affairs  they  erected  a  kind  of  merchants'  ex- 
change as  early  as  1854,  but  no  other  banks  exist  than 
the  counting-houses  of  the  different  merchants,  to 
whom  savings  are  intrusted  on  interest,  and  who  issue 
checks.  Wliere  they  keep  the  large  sums  wliicii  are 
so  readily  forthcoming  when  called  for  is  not  rcvc  nled. 
Money-brokers  exist  who  are  prepared  to  grant  hm\s 
to  well-known  merchants  on  their  word  alone,  which 
is  never  broken.  Indeed,  these  men  have  a  better 
reputation  for  honesty  than  the  Americans.     At  New 


DEATH  BEFORE  DISHONOR 


841 


Yi  ar  books  are  balanced,  and  all  debts  settled.  Fail- 
ing in  this  they  are  cancelled  or  j^race  is  ottered,  but 
with  loss  of  credit  to  the  non-payer,  who  is  henceforth 
dishonored,  unless  his  eftbi-ts  to  retrieve  himself  are 
successful.  It  seems  to  be  a  matter  of  honor  with 
insolvent  debtors  to  kill  themselves,  for  death  alone 
cancels  unpaid  debts.  It  is  a  pity  this  rule  does  not 
obtain  in  America  and  Europe.  The  six  companies 
wield  power  over  all,  and  permit  none  to  leave  the 
Cduiitry  who  have  not  settled  their  debts. 

Mine  uncle,  the  pawnbroker,  likewise  is  John,  and 
drives  a  thriving  business  among  the  poor  oi)ium- 
sinitkers.  His  dealings  are  regulated  by  a  guild,  and 
licensed  by  Vvnerican  authorities.  Everything  on 
which  a  bit  can  be  loaned  is  found  hypothecated  by 
needy  persons  and  gamblers;  even  prospective  wages 
are  pawned,  and  in  return  for  the  deposit,  besides  the 
money  loaned,  they  receive  a  ticket  corresponding  to 
the  tag  attached  to  the  article. 

If  they  do  not  possess  all  the  various  adjuncts  of 
our  enterprising  conunerce,  they  at  least  learn  quickly 
enough  to  take  ucb  antage  of  them.  It  is  related  that 
a  Chinaman  i.;;u  insured  his  life  for  a  considerable 
amount,  and  on  being  brought  near  to  death  by  an 
accident,  his  friends  sent  to  the  insurance  company  to 
say  that  the  man  was  half  dead,  and  that  they  wanted 
half  the  money.  Behind  the  innocent  exterior  of  tlie 
celestial  is  hidden  much  cunning,  and  the  white  men 
who  are  tempted  by  this  appearance  to  make  him  the 
butt  of  their  jokes,  or  to  take  an  unfair  advantage, 
often  find  themselves  the  victims.  One  day  a  China- 
man entered  a  Cheap  John  Jew  shop  on  Conuneroial 
street,  and  picking  up  one  boot  of  a  pair  examined  it 
attentively. 

"How  muchee?"  at  length  he  inquired. 

"Five  dollars,"  replied  the  shop-keeper. 

"  I  give  you  two  dollar,"  said  the  Chinaman.  The 
I-sraelite  looked  at  the  heathen  for  a  moment  in 
mingled  disgust  and  contempt;  his  large,   ungainly 


min 


342 


MON(iOLlANI.SM   IN   AMERICA. 


^?  m 


'j-l-'ll;];! 


1:1]! 


lips  tlion  wroatlii'd   tlu'insclves  into  what  by   some 
iHiji;lit  be  calletl  u  smili'. 

"All  ris^ht,  take  it,"  he  at  leni^dh  rcjtlietl. 

The  Chinaman  paid  the  money,  ami  was  alH.ut 
pickin*j;  up  the  other  boot  to  make  the  pair  eoniplt  tr 
when  the  shop-keeper  laid  his  hand  on  him,  and  bi(  ;ik- 
iiiH'  into  a  loud  lau^h  exclaimed,  "\o  you  thm't,  vou 
heathen!  Isold  you  one  boot  only.  J*av  me  thiic 
dollars  ipore,  and  you  may  have  the  other.  11a  I  ha! 
lia! 

Not  a  muscle  in  tlu;  Mon<folian's  faee  moved,  hut 
the  oopitery  tineture  eonnnon  to  his  features  cliaiij^i  ij 
to  a  brassy  hue,  so  deeply  stiired  was  Ik;;  then  draw- 
ing from  his  pocket  a  knife,  he  o))ened  it,  and  hetutv 
the  faintest  susjtieion  of  what  ]n)  was  about  to  do 
crossed  the  mind  of  the  shop-keej>er,  the  Chiiianiaii 
cut  the  boot  he  had  bought  into  shreds,  tlirew  it  nn 
the  rioor,  and  walked  out  of  the  shop,  thus  sjuiiliiig 
the  pair  for  any  future  sale, 

Chinese  merchants  form  partnerships,  often  ot"  a 
dozen  members,  who  live  in  their  store,  where  they 
kee|)  a  cook  and  other  servants,  and  maintain  a  strii  t 
exchisiveness  fi'oni  tlu;  conuuon  ))e()j)le.  IMu'ir  rdu- 
cation,  ri'fined  manners,  and  lil)erality  have  gained  for 
them  lircat  esteem  amon«»'  our  merchants.  I'roiiiiiK  iit 
among  them  was  Chung  l^oek,  a  nuMubcr  of  the  iinii 
of  Chy  Lung  &  Co.  since  1S.")0,  who  died  August  .'id, 
J8<!S,  and  whose;  funei'al  was  attended  by  many 
Americans.  Their  largest  dealings  are  in  rice,  t'  a, 
o[»ium,  silk,  clothing,  and  fancy  goods.  The  cxtnit 
of  tluj  wholesah;  trade  may  be  judged  from  the  cus- 
toms duties,  which  in  1S77  amounted  to  $l,7r)C>.i)iiO. 
From  these  houses  are  su|>i>lied  hundreds  of  )■<  tail 
stores,  many  of  which,  especially  those  keeping  fancy 
gooils,  a])})eal  to  American  patronage^.  ]\[any  of  tliein 
are  branches  of  the  wholesale  establishments.  In 
contrast  to  tlu;  fancy  goods  warehouses,  aiid  reniaii<- 
able  chiefly  for  their  odor  an<l  filth,  are  the  provision 
stores,  with  their  uiai:gled  cliuiiks  of  meat  on  diii^^y 


! :  ■'    i    ill'  ■■ 


COMMKRCE  AND  INDUSTRIES. 


.^t3 


boards,  floor,  furiiituro,  and  walls  smeared  with  blood, 
liaik  holes  iilled  with  suspi('i<)Us-loi)kiug  food,  vcnjje- 
talili-  and  nondescrii)t.  Poles  and  strings  cross  one 
iiiioilier  with  repulsive  loads  of  fish,  pork,  and  ducks, 
uiHki'going  a  curative  process  in  tlie  smoky  atmos- 
jihcre,  and  adding  to  it  their  quota  of  jmtridity. 

To  become  a  slR>[)keeper  a[)j)ears  to  be  as  much  an 
iiliji(  t  of  the  Chinaman's  ambition  as  the  Anierieans, 
hut  the  main  i)oiiit  is  to  get  rich,  as  indicated  by  their 
Xiw  Year's  salutation.  If  he  has  not  the  means  to 
(i|i(ii  a  shop  and  await  ])atroiiage  with  dignity,  he  can 
at  least  stock  a  })eddler's  basket,  and  armed  with  the 
lici  ii>e  issued  by  the  nmnicipality  f  tr  ten  dollars  })er 
(|uailrr,  he  braves  the  raw  morning,  the  hoodlums 
and  the  dogs,  to  oiler  vegetables,  fish,  fancy  goods, 
iiiatcjies  and  other  articles  at  the  doors  of  the  i)eo})le. 
The  limited  use  of  beasts  in  China  has  habituated  the 
iiiiialiitants  to  carrying;  and  however  large  the  busi- 
lii  >.s  may  be  of  the  peddler  or  laundryman,  no  wagons 
aiv  used.  The  vegetable  venders  may  thiily  be  seen 
|iaiiiiiig  at  a  swinging  and  never-relaxing  gait,  beneath 
l.iD  poumls,  all  packed  and  arranged  with  achnirable 
cair.  Tliev  are  under  conti'ol  of  certain  associations 
ov  masters,  some  of  whom  havt;  an  arrangement  with 
iiiaiket-dealers  to  receive  all  unsold  and  rejected  stutl". 
l\i(li(l  vegetables  are  sometimes  taken  to  a  cellar, 
\vh(i(i  they  are  freshened  with  water  and  })icked.  In 
\>7i\  the  number  of  Chinese  ]»eddlers  in  San  Francisco 
and  ( )akland  was  estimated  at  three  hunched. 

Andiiotalone  vegetable  peddlers  are  thus  controlled, 
Init  <lealers  in  all  branches  of  trade;  tea  merchants, 
Wiishcrmen,  shoemakers, cigar  manufacturers,  and  rag- 
|Milorsare  likewise  suliject  to  guihis  and  tra<hs  unions, 
wlinsc  rules  modify  com[)etition,  lix  j>rices,  and  deter- 
inint.'  other  niatters. 


Tlio  industries  of  the  Chinese  in  California  were 
f'liii  tly  of  the  ruder  kin<h  as  the  immigration  comprised 
tor  the  mo«t  part  uuakillud  laborers;  hence  the  rail- 


I'   I 


I    I 


S44 


MONGOLIANISM  IN  AMERICA. 


ways  came  in  for  a  large  share  of  their  attention,  so 
much  so  that  in  18G6  more  than  one  fourth  of  all  the 
Chinese  in  CaUforiiia  were  employed  on  them.  Evtiv 
railroad  on  the  coast  has  used  their  labor,  thus  hasten- 
ing the  completion  of  their  roads.  Their  efficiency  as 
pick-and-shovel  men  has  been  tested  also  on  \va;j;()n 
roads ;  on  the  Pacific  Mail  Steamship  Company's  de[iut, 
where  they  cut  away  the  hill  and  filled  in  the  bay ; 
on  the  Pilarcitos  creek  reservoir  which  was  cliIcHy 
constructed  by  them  ;  and  above  all  by  large  cxtc  nt 
of  reclaimed  land  and  irrigation  canals.  For  this 
work  they  were  particularly  fitted  by  their  traininjjr  in 
the  native  rice  fields,  and  for  its  cultivation  they  liave 
shown  themselves  equally  well  suited.  Amoniij  the 
large  Chinese  contractors  was  the  Quong  Yee  Wo  Co. 
of  San  Francisco,  which  underbid  eleven  tenders  for 
the  ditch  of  the  Truckee  and  Steamboat  Springs  Canal 
Co.,  offering  to  dig  it  for  $36,000.  The  C()ni[>any 
keeps  an  army  of  laborers  on  the  various  contracts 
held  by  it. 

Their  value  as  farm  laborers  has  been  generclly  re- 
cognized; and  but  for  their  ready  and  cheaper  lal)or 
the  farmer  would  often  have  been  at  a  loss  to  dear 
his  field  or  gather  his  crop.  Whole  parties  flock  to 
the  potato  diggings  and  help  to  cheapen  this  needful 
food.  Most  of  the  small  fruit  is  gathered  by  them. 
Indeed,  the  long  belt  of  orchards  along  the  Sacramento 
and  its  tributaries  in  1876  employed  over  2,500  of 
them  to  a  score  or  so  of  white  laborers  The  stoop- 
ing posture  the  European  cannot  so  well  endure,  and 
the  neat  handling  and  trinnning  he  docs  not  attain 
to.  Often  the  small  value  of  the  crop  will  not  pennit 
the  payment  of  high  wages  for  gathering  it.  F« n-  the 
cultivation  of  sandy  and  less  productive  soil,  and  t'^r 
the  hot  and  marshy  valley  of  San  Joaquin,  they  i>n>ve 
more  efficient  than  white  men;  and  in  particular  for 
the  introduction  and  cultivation  of  rice,  cotton,  eofVeo, 
tea,  sugar,  and  similar  products  for  which  soutliern 
California  is  admirably  suited,  but  for  which  she  must 


CHINAMEN  AS  LABORERS. 


345 


Lave  cheap  and  experienced  labor  in  order  to  compete 
with  countries  whence  we  now  import  them,  they  are 
iinlcspensible.  Rice  has  not  succeeded  as  yet,  but 
silk  culture  is  promising,  and  in  1869  a  firm  at  San 
Gabriel  contracted  for  forty  Chinese  families  to  attend 
to  its  mulberry  plantations.  The  contract  was  for 
four  years ;  but  if  they  remained  permanently  they 
wore  to  receive  as  a  gift  a  house  and  garden  for  each 
family. 

As  vegetable  gardeners  the  Chinese  were  scarcely 
exrolled.  They  had  regular  plantations  on  the  Sac- 
ramento and  elsewhere,  where  they  worked  for  the 
proprietor,  who  furnished  teams  and  some  implements, 
aiul  attended  to  the  sale  of  the  produce  in  return  for 
his  lialf  share  of  vegetables  and  grain,  and  three-fiftlis 
of  tlie  fruit.  The  tenants  employed  countrymen  la- 
borers at  from  ten  to  sixteen  dollars  a  month,  with 
board.  Others  leased  land  for  a  money  rental,  and 
some  even  ventured  to  purchase  farming  land.  Above 
Eio  Vista  was  a  rancho  of  2105  acres  which  was 
bimj^dit  by  a  Chinsse  joint  stock  company  for  thirty 
dollars  per  acre,  stocked  and  improved.  Anotlicr 
tract  of  1000  above  Benicia  was  purchased  for 
twinty-seven  dollars  an  acre  by  Chinese.  That  favor- 
ite connnodity  of  the  fruit-dealer,  peanuts,  was 
]arLi;ely  produced  by  Chinese.  In  18G8  one  man  made 
81J00  by  employing  his  countrymen  to  pick  wild 
mustard  in  Monterey  county.  They  also  had  exten- 
sive arrangements  for  the  hatching  of  eggs  by  artifi- 
cial heat.  Wood-cutting,  clearing  fields  of  stubble, 
an<l  burning  charcoal  were  branches  of  work  under- 
tak(  n  by  them. 

Until  stopped  by  trades  unions,  manufacturers  were 
gliiil  to  employ  them,  particularly  since  contractors 
Wric  willing  to  guarantee  them  from  loss  by  pilfering, 
for  which  they  have  a  penchant  There  was  scarcely 
a  tiado  into  which  they  did  not  enter  in  competition 
\vitli  white  men  whom  they  sometimes  succ(>edcd  in 
ou:5ting,     They  were  to  be  found  in  lumber,  paper, 


846 


MONfiOLIAXlSM  IX  AMERICA. 


■■  *'\ 


'■  If:'    ; 


mh 


I    •'  , 


]% 


and  powder  mills,  taiiiiorics,  rope-walks,  lead- works, 
till  hliops,  and  factories  for  jute,  oakum,  sack,  Uiu. 
l)lacking,  soap,  and  candles.  Some  were  employed  as 
cabinet-makers  and  carvers,  others  as  brick-makus, 
competing  with  the  convicts,  and  in  condensing  sail 
from  the  sea.  At  Isleton  near  the  mouth  of  tlic 
Sacramento,  they  worked  in  a  beet-root  sugar  nfiiu  iv. 
At  ]\[arvsville  a  numl)cr  of  broom  and  sack  makers 
employed  them,  and  the  woollen-mills  in  San  Fran- 
cisco had  about  IGO.  The  three  woollen-mills  in  San 
Francisco  eniployed  about  700  in  1870.  The  Kuieka 
hair  factory  could  not  nuiintain  itself  but  for  their 
cheap  labor  to  gather  and  ])repare  the  soap  root ;  tlicy 
also  assisted  in  making  curled  hair  ami  coir  for  uphol- 
sterers. There  were  at  this  time  thirty  Chinese  cloth- 
ing manufaetories  with  male  and  female  em})]oyt's, 
the  females  dointi'  the  lieht  fmishini-'  work.  Ovoalls 
and  underwear  for  men  and  women  could  not  be  made 
here  so  as  to  com})ete  with  eastern  manufactures 
except  with  the  cheap  and  efficievt  aid  (»f  Chimse,  of 
whonjover  1000  used  to  ply  the  sewing  machine. 

In  1870  there  were  seventy  Chinese  establishnients 
for  the  manufacture  of  bot)ts  and  shoes,  and  to  eoni- 
pete  with  tiieni  the  American  firms  were  obliged  to 
employ  a  large  pro})ortion  of  Chinese,  especially  for 
making  women's  an<l  children's  shoes.  Some  of  the 
largest  manufacturers,  who  employed  Chimse  and 
white  men  in  about  vi\ui\\  proi)ortlon,  were  in  conse- 
quence e\[)osed  to  great  danger  at  the  hands  (d'  ii\x'\- 
tators ;  but  recognizing  their  inability  to  niiiintiiiu 
their  establishments  with  exclusively  white  lah>  r, 
their  own  white  employes  organized  into  a  force  to 
guard  the  factory  during  an  excitement.  The  .^hoe- 
makers'  union  j)resented  a  dark  ])icture  of  the  distri  >.s 
among  its  members,  and  said  that  the  Chinese  uerk- 
nien,  of  whom  there  were  UOOO,  jiad  dcj)rived  nioro 
than  jialf  of  the  1*200  nuMubers  of  work,  besides 
monopolizing  the  slip[)er  traile. 

Tlicac  men  forget,  however,  that  were  the  Chinese 


ci(;ar-makiX(1  and  lauxdi:iks. 


347 


h]h>v  dispcnsod  with,  the  factories  Avould  succumb  he- 
t'lirc  the  eastern  trade,  and  tlio  white  men  employed 
1(V  them  would  be  added  to  the  idle.  In  this  liojit 
till'  ('hinese  may  be  eonsidi'red,  as  In  fori'  remaiktd, 
lalh.r  as  l»eneraet<»rs  t<»  industry.  This  aigunieiit  a|t- 
iihts  to  a   numbi'r  of  other  industries   sucii   as   the 


WDOl  It'll 


(111 

ha 

cli: 


■mills,  sack,  jute,  and  hair  factories,  which 
ilil  not  be  maintained,  and  ])t,>rha[)s  could  never 
vc  hcen  established,  but  for  the  cheap  lahor  which 
uhlcs  them  tt)  com]>ete  with  the  rest  of  the  woi-jd. 
!ir  ])rices  paid  to  Chinamen  are,  as  a  rule,  less  than 
n'  w  hite  labor,  the  former  receiving'  in  San  Fianci 


SCO 


WlKlIll 


11. 


n  mills  $1  a  dav,  aL;ainst  Jsl.7J  to  i^-2  for  skilled 


will 


te  operatives,  and  from  Jjjil  to  $1.00  fur  women  and 


;irl.s. 


If  tlio  Chinese  encroached  laro'ely  on  th(^  shoe 
trade,  they  nearly  appropriated  the  ciijjar  manufacture. 
Tiir  ciL;ar-makers  swarmed  between  Sansonie  and 
FiMiit  streets,  and  in  the  loathsome  dens  of  tJie  Chi- 
iii'sc  (|uarti!r,  where  the  chea|i  wei-ds  pati'oni/ed  by 
tilt  hoodlums  were  chiefly  manufactured.  Tluy  num 
1mv(1  from  4000  to  7000,  and  nine-ti'nths  of  the 
ci'.'ars  and  cis^arettes  were  from  their  hands.  ( Germans 
iiitimhicc^d  thi'm  to  the  busin(>ss,  and  had  later  rea 
to  (hvad  their  rivalry.     In    1802    the  white  ci 


son 


uar' 


makers  rose 


tod 


n  ve 


them  out,  but  faili'd. 


A  I'Mdm  fifteen  feet  wide  and  twi'iity  in  len_i,4h,  witJi 
a  '^ahery  for  ijjreater  (Economy  of  sj)ace,  would  hold 
iifiuly  fifty  men,  who  worked  under  a  foreman  ;  they 
>i!ii»keil  and  talked  at  |ileasure,  for  the  work  was  by 
till'  |)iece,  at  from  five  to  fourteen  dollars  a  thousand, 
accoi'diii'j:  to  (lualitv. 


itO||;| 


luautv.  llie  average  earimiLTs  were  one 
1  a  day.  The  tobacco  j»assed  throue^h  throe  pro- 
(CSS.  s,  after  beiiijjj  moistened  by  a  fine  spray  from  the 
i""Uth.  The  stems  of  the  leaf  were  extracted  by  oni>, 
itiioth.T  rolled  up  the  filler,  while  a  third  enveloped 
f!i.'  V,  hole  in  a  wrap|)er,  pasted  it,  and  twisted  the  end 
into  >haj)e.  Ci^ar  stumps  from  the  stn'ets  formed  a 
part  of  the  filling  for  cheap  cigars.     Besides  the  legit- 


ill 


!l 


348 


MONGOLIANISxM  IN  AMERICA. 


-<B 


imate  manufacturers,  there  was  a  number  of  illlf  it 
makers,  whose  wares  were  hawked  by  peddlers,  who 
kept  the  cigars  hidden  in  their  sleeves  or  close  to  tluir 
bronzed  skin.  The  Chinese  dealer  was  constantly 
evading  the  tax  by  omitting  to  destroy  the  stamp  on 
the  box  ;  they  got  rid  of  low  grade  ware  by  placing  a 
few  good  cigars  on  the  top  in  the  box. 

In  the  laundry  business  the  Chinese  gained  as  strong 
a  footing  as  in  the  cigar  trade.  In  1876  San  Fran- 
cisco alone  contained  some  300  Chinese  laundries, 
employing  on  an  average  five  men  each,  and  1,500 
more  were  employed  at  white  establishments.  Almost 
every  block  in  the  city  had  one  or  more  laundries; 
hotels,  boarding-houses,  and  other  institutions  had 
generally  one  of  their  own.  There  is  scarcely  a  vil- 
lage on  the  coast  without  them.  Although  not  very 
enterprising  as  business  men,  they  have  acquired  to 
some  extent  the  American  art  of  soliciting  orders, 
and  families  are  sometimes  applied  to  with  the  not 
very  clear  inquiry,  "You  dirty?"  followed  by  the 
explanation,  "  Me  washee  belly  clean."  They  are  not 
particular  as  to  the  quality  of  the  work,  but  with  im- 
pressive persuasion  they  may  be  made  to  understand 
that  spots  and  wrinkles  do  not  add  to  the  finish  of  a 
shirt-front;  still  more  difficult  is  it  to  prevail  upon 
them  to  spare  the  material,  which  rapidly  decays 
under  their  system  of  pounding  and  the  use  of  acids 
for  bleaching.  The  sprinkling  process  is  most  ett'ect- 
ively  performed  with  the  mouth,  and  ironing  is  often 
done  with  hollow  irons  containing  glowing  coals. 
Arsenic  is  said  to  be  added  to  the  starch  to  give  a 
gloss.  The  economic  principle  is  carried  so  far  that 
the  proprietor  will  employ  two  gangs,  one  for  the  day, 
the  other  for  the  night,  in  order  to  utilize  the  shop 
and  its  stock  in  trade  to  the  fullest  extent,  or  two 
washing  companies  will  alternate.  Their  laundry 
rental  for  1877  was  $152,000  and  the  water  tax 
$68,800.  Laundries  are  not  desirable  in  any  localitv, 
for  people  naturally  object  to  such  neighbors,  and  will 


SONG  OP  THE  SHIRT. 


349 


not  take  adjoining  houses  except  at  a  lower  rent. 
The  odor  is  objectionable,  and  the  danger  from  fires 
is  iiirreased,  owing  to  the  crudeness  of  the  fire-places, 
and  the  absence  or  defect  of  the  chimney.  In  a  Chi- 
nese song  of  the  shirt  to  his  cousin  at  home  the  wash- 
man  in  California  thus  complains : 


Workee,  wnrkee, 
All  same  workee, 
No  time  thinkee, 
No  time  see, 
Me  no  likee, 
Wliy  for  workee, 
l>aiiii)oor  ricee, 
Dampoor  tea. 


Washee,  waslice. 
All  day  washee, 
All  clay  gettee, 
One  rupee, 
No  buy  tfmokee. 
All  dam  boshee. 
No  buy  drinkee. 
Poor  whiskee. 


Chinee  countree, 
All  one  samee, 
John  have  pickee, 
Big  ladee, 
Here  no  likee, 
hia  damshamee, 
All  John  havee. 
One  Taddee. 


Another  work  extensively  engaged  in  by  the 
Chinese,  and  for  which  their  home  training  on  the 
river  has  particularly  fitted  them,  is  fishing.  In  1857 
we  find  them  employing  twelve  vessels  and  several 
hundred  men  in  the  pearl  oyster  fishery  to  gather 
aulones,  as  the  meat  of  this  oyster  is  termed,  for  the 
San  Francisco  and  China  market.  The  Chinese  fisher- 
men spread  rapidly  along  coast  and  inlets,  and  carried 
on  tlieir  quest  with  such  energy  that  the  legislature 
of  1859  was  induced  to  impose  a  tax  of  four  dollars 
per  month. 

In  various  parts  of  the  bay  a  series  of  piles  or 
sticks  may  be  seen  rising  from  the  water  to  which 
nets  are  attached.  At  the  turn  of  the  tide  the  junks 
or  sampans  come  round  with  their  queer  cross-ribbed 
sails  to  receive  the  catch,  including  the  tiniest  min- 
now, for  before  the  law  was  passed  regulating  the  size 
of  tlieir  meshes  nothing  was  allowed  to  escape  them. 
The  haul  is  sorted  on  shore,  and  the  big  fish  placed 
in  perforated  boxes  and  kept  in  the  water  till  the 
market  boat  leaves.  The  minnows,  which  include 
our  choicest  food  fishes,  are  dried  in  the  sun  and 
sliipjied  to  San  Francisco  and  China.  Shrimps  are 
also  caught  and  dried,  and  beaten  with  sticks  to  release 
the  shell ;  both  meat  and  shell  are  then  packed  for 
export,  the  latter  being  used  for  fertilizing  purposes. 
The  manifest  of  the  steamer  for  China,  iu  May  1877, 


3oO 


MOXGOLIANISM  IN  AMERICA. 


^1 


showed  an  export  of  1)45  sacks  of  slirlinp  shells.  GOO 
of  shrimps  and  705  of  minnows,  valued  at  $•_'_'. (idO. 
Other  steamers  took  nimilar  lots,  showinuj  a  total 
export  for  the  year  of  nearly  one  million  dollars  worth 
of  this  article  alone. 

This  wholesale  extermination  has  made  tlio  ti>Ii 
scarce;  for  notwithstandinj^  tho  law  regulating'  tl,c 
size  of  the  meshes,  the  Chinese  readily  })ay  tho  fine 
and  repeat  the  offence.  Between  Vallejo  and  Sau- 
zalito  alone  about  one  thousand  Chinese  \n\'y  njinn 
the  fish,  and  obstruct  navigation  with  tlnir  \>\\v>. 
Under  such  circumstances  it  is  useless  to  plant  ova. 

Near  Point  Pinos,  two  miles  from  ^lonterey,  was 
a  colony  of  400  or  500  fishermen,  with  wonuu  and 
children,  who  made  a  good  living  by  catching  ainl 
drying  smelts  and  shell  fish,  with  occasionally  sdur' 
cod  and  other  species.  Whaling  was  not  indulgrd  in. 
being  too  dan<j:erous.  The  settlement  consistnl  of 
about  100  frad  shed-dwellings,  W'ith  gardens.  |ii;4- 
sties,  hen-roosts,  and  drying-poles,  guarded  by  do-s 
no  less  than  by  the  usual  odors  of  celestial  (|uaitri>. 
among  which  that  of  dead  fish  here  predominated. 
Yet  the  huts  were  rather  tidy,  and  proteetid  \>y 
moral  inscription  and  an  idol  patron  before'  wliuli 
joss-sticks  and  prayers  were  constantly  ofrex  d.  It 
needed  but  a  small  portion  of  the  revenue;  from 
fish  and  fish  oil  to  supply  the  few  extra  artiidcs  re- 
quired by  these  temperate  people,  such  as  rice,  tea, 
opium,  and  joss-w^ood,  for  the  sea  and  garden  supplied 
the  rest. 

The  Chinese  were  not  content  with  waging  war 
upon  the  labor  of  white  men,  but  arrayed  thenisi  l\ts 
also  against  the  women,  tho  nundxT  of  house  servants 
furnished  by  them  amounting  to  5000  hi  San  Fran- 
cisco alone.  A  Chinese  servant  is  as  a  ml''  iii"ic 
willing  to  do  what  is  required  of  him  than  a  white 
woman  who  is  a])t  to  offer  objections  at  every  tuin. 
insistuig  on  superior  accommodation  and  inc(>nv(  ninit 
privileges.     Asiatic  servants  are   generally   neat  in 


LITTLE  CHINA. 


351 


person,  qiiiot,  and  not  at  all  ol)j((tinnal»K'  in  tlu'ir 
liiiliits.  Tlic'ir  wai^i's  wore  maintained  tlii(iut;li  all  the 
raids  aijainst  them,  and  in  1SH7  wore  neai'er  those  of 
white  women  than  in  1857,  many  housekeepers  preter- 
riiiLC  them  to  Irish  or  German  jjfirls  at  the  same  late. 

l';v>;'-pioliing  rose  into  a  profession  in  Little  China, 
and  was  of  considerable  benefit  to  manufacturers.  A 
lar.;i!  buildinj^  on  Verina  street,  formerly  used  as  a 
cliureh,  became  the  headtjuarters  of  pcrha})s  two  hun- 
dred vagabonds,  who  increased  their  revenue  by  rob- 
1)1  IT  and  mi.  '^r.  They  worked  in  scjuads,  under  the 
direction  ol  a  e.  icf  for  whom  a  corner  was  set  aside 
at  the  alco/o  con.'^crated  to  the  idol  patron.  Tlie 
rest  of  this  abode  was  filled  with  a  miscellaneous  as- 
smtinent  of  dilapidated  household  ware,  jii>i>Mrel, 
jiicccs  of  food,  and  scraps  of  every  ima;j;inable  material. 
Tlie  filth  was  repugnant,  tlio  odors  ovcrijowering,  and 
vice  and  disease  reigned  in  the  most  loathsome  form. 

So  far  the  Chinese  are  principally  confined  to  the 
lower  walks  of  our  industries;  but  lierc  their  lack 
of  (tri'>inality  and  inventive  iii<>enuitv  is  very  con- 
s[)icuous  for  such  apt  imitators,  and  militate  against 
them.  Their  mechanical  contrivances  at  the  mines 
and  elsewhere  have  been  elaborate,  but  w\asteful  and 
ill'  IHeiont.  The  Cornell  watch  factory  at  Berkeley 
ii)lrn(hieed  their  labor  with  most  fiatteiin-j:  results, 
biihcd,  there  was  a  nund)er  of  watchmakers  in  the 
Chinese  quarter  to  whom  any  work  might  be  safely 
intrusted.  Still,  the  genius  of  the  Mong(dian  does 
not  rise  above  imitation,  and  at  this  he  probably  sur- 
]tass(  s  the  white  man,  for  he  masters  a  trade  in  a  few 
v.Hiks,  which  the  other  requires  months  or  years  to 
learn. 

On  the  first  entry  of  the  Chinese  colony  into  San 
Jose,  the  head  man,  who  wanted  ten  houses,  hired  a 
larpenter  to  erect  one.  While  he  was  constru<'tiiig  it, 
the  Cliinamen  lay  around,  smoking  anil  idling,  but  not 
without  an  object.  No  sooner  was  the  first  house 
ready  than  the  carpenter  was  dismissed  with  the  dec- 


802 


MONGOUANISM  IN  AMERICA. 


'  s 


laratim  that  the  "Chinaman  sabee  all  same  Melican 
man,"  and  would  now  build  the  rest  without  his  aid. 
The  stone  for  a  corner  building  on  Montgomery  and 
California  streets,  San  Francisco,  was  brought  from 
China,  where  the  granite  blocks  were  cut  and  fitted, 
the  Chinese  workmen  accompanying  the  cargo  and 
aiding  to  erect  the  building,  in  1852.  It  is  not  exactly 
a  model  of  beauty  or  of  skill,  but  did  good  service. 
The  cost  was  $117,000,  and  it  rented  at  first  for  about 
$40,000  per  annum. 

A  Chinaman  at  the  machine  shops  of  the  Pacific 
Mail  Steamship  Company  in  San  1  rancisco  had  not 
been  there  long  before  he  made  a  working  model  of  a 
locomotive,  which  was  exhibited  at  the  Sacramento 
fair.  Their  skill  at  carving  is  too  well  known  to  re- 
quire comments ;  a  Chinese  portrait-painter  established 
himself  on  Kearney  street  in  1869,  and  received  many 
orders.  A  sea-captain  sent  a  picture  injured  by  a 
rent  to  a  painter  at  Hongkong,  requesting  him  to 
make  a  copy.  In  due  time  he  received  the  work,  but 
was  amazed  to  find  that  the  rent  and  stitches  had 
also  been  reproduced  with  such  exactness  that  it  re- 
quired a  close  examination  to  discover  whether  the 
rent  was  real  or  not.  Chiar-oscuro,  perspective,  and 
other  principles  are  little  understood,  and  brilliancy 
of  coloring  constitutes  the  chief  merit  of  the  art,  as 
illustrated  in  the  well-known  rice  pictures.  Besides 
these,  the  most  common  products  of  the  Chinese  easel 
are  plain  and  colored  outline  sketches  on  silk,  similar 
to  the  lantern  patterns,  mounted  scroll  fashion  on  the 
walls,  and  representing  chiefly  landscapes,  wherein  a 
fair  linear  perspective  is  noticeable.  Straight  lines 
and  uniformity  are  carefully  avoided,  and  elaborate 
maze-like  and  symbolic  lines  enter  as  the  favorite  mode 
of  decoration,  reflecting  the  instability  of  the  national 
character. 


Europeans  in  China  are  obliged  to  be  painfully 
cautious  in  dealing  with  them,  and  if  the  traders  here 


ttk.**' 


KASCALITY,  WHITE  AND  YELLOW 


3A3 


observe  good  faith,  it  is  ascribed  to  self-interest  and 
fear.  The  same  motives  may  rule  engagements 
among  themselves,  but  they  are  well  observed.  The 
reLjular  payment  of  debts  at  New  Year,  and  the  fear 
of  the  disgrace  which  attaches  to  a  defaulter,  arc  ad- 
mirable features  that  do  not  conform  to  our  general 
experience  of  them ;  but  the  barbarian  may  be  regarded 
as  fair  prey.  With  us  they  overthrow  a  contract  or 
break  an  engagement  <n\  the  least  whim,  listen  un- 
moved to  our  remonstrances,  and  as  soon  as  we  have 
fiiiislied  they  turn  their  back  and  walk  away.  While 
they  arc  at  work  for  you,  however,  they  generally 
attend  closely  to  their  duties,  and  there  have  been 
found  among  them  rare  instances  of  disinterested 
fidelity  under  trying  circumstances. 

After  all  the  yellow  man  is  not  so  very  different 
from  the  white  man  or  black  man,  whether  their  cre- 
ators arc  the  same  or  not,  the  chief  characteristics  of 
the  Asiatic  in  America  being  a  slightly  surly  and  reti- 
cent timidity  overlying  a  disposition  easily  roused  to 
reckless  revenge,  but  always  preferring  peace,  and  of- 
ten displaying  happy  content  an<l  attachment.  There 
are  nuiuy  honest  Chinamen,  and  there  are  Chinamen 
who  steal.  1  do  not  know  that  the  yellow  man  in 
this  respect  is  any  worse  than  the  black  or  the  white 
man.  Indeed  our  greatest  thieves  are  found  among 
die  rich  manij)ulators ;  after  them  the  politicians 
and  ofHec-holders,  and  lastly  the  low  foreigners,  in- 
cluding celestials.  The  thieves'  repositories  in  the 
Chinatowns  are  protected  by  every  inliabitaut,  out  of 
puri^  anti-barbaric  spirit.  Occasionally  the  police  are 
enli;jj]itened  by  a  "ghost"  or  a  spy,  and  swoop  down 
to  pry  into  corners. 

The  inmates  are  profuse  with  bland  smiles  and  "no 
sabhc  ",  and  when  the  spoils  are  uncovered  under  their 
eyes,  they  still  maintain  their  blandness  and  denial. 
It  is  liard  to  say  what  will  ruffle  their  equanimity. 
An  ex[)ose  of  baseness  or  rascality  raises  no  blush;  a 
grotesque  exhibition  draws  but  a  smile;   an  event 


I 


KSSAYS  AND  MlRCBLLANY 


28 


ii 
I  III 


364 


MONGOLUNISM  IN   AMmilCA. 


r 


which  would  rrcatc  a  fennont  of  excitement  aiiion.,' 
wliiUi  men  does  not  Ktir  tliom.  The  nonchalance  dt 
tlit'ir  <leatli-condcnnied  is  well  known.  They  chat  loul 
smile,  cat  heartily  and  8k:('j).st)undly,  without  a  tin (U-^lit 
apiiaiciitly  of  the  scatibld  and  its  dread  heyond.  Tho 
unconcerned  exterior  hetokens  an  unsympatlictic  na- 
ture; yet  wliili'  hiuij;hter  and  eliat  are  freely  indulged 
in  round  a  funeral  hicr.  svm|»athy  and  solf-deuiul  are 
conmion.  The  neglect  of  tin?  sick,  and  the  oxjinsiire 
of  dying  ])ers()ns,  who  are  allowed  to  starve  to  (i<  atli 
beneatli  their  eyes,  indicate  a  heartless  inditii  ivnro, 
but  this  after  all  displays  a  fatalism,  a  resignation 
to  the  inevitable  which  helps  them  through  their  own 
dark  hours.  Men  overtaken  by  reverses,  struek  tlnwii 
by  disease,  or  pursued  by  justice,  yield  to  fate,  and  do 
not  hesitate  to  turn  upon  themselves,  plunging  into 
the  unknown. 

InditlVi-ent  to  their  surroundings  here,  the  nioniory 
of  home  fills  their  breast;  and  formal  as  may  he  their 
worship  of  the  gods,  fervor  creeps  over  the  soul  as 
they  bend  bc^fore  the  ancestral  tablet.  The  maxims 
of  the  Great  Sage  rest  uj)on  their  lips;  the  gentle  ad- 
monitions of  the  mother  dwell  in  the  heart,  Tli('(hity 
toward  their  fellow-creatures,  inculcated  from  •  arly 
childhood,  is  centred  in  the  sacred  oblifjation  toward 
their  aged  relatives,  which  extends  into  a  commenda- 
ble respect  for  those  old  enough  to  be  their  parents, 
and  declines  into  a  feeble  elannishness  for  their  iimuo- 
diate  district  folk.  The  latter  may  depmd  on  tlicir 
aid  for  certain  occasions;  patriarchs  commend  tlitir 
deference;  but  the  respect  for  parents  dee|H'ns  into 
adoration.  For  them  the  son's  toils  are  pleasure;  tor 
them  he  sacrifices  luxuries ;  for  them  he  saves  from 
his  pittance ;  and  on  their  graves  he  sheds  his  only 
tears  of  pure  grief  and  sympathy. 

With  this  absorbing  virtue  are  bound  throe  others, 
patience,  industry,  and  economy.  The  former  aro  im- 
pressed on  them  in  school,  the  latter  at  home.  They 
become,  in  consequence,  regular,  precise,  and  plodding, 


IDEAS   AND    IDIOSYNCllACIES. 


356 


and  these  are  qualities  which  the  contractor  appre- 
riat(  s  ill  connection  with  their  tenipenito  rlispooition, 
adiiptable  nature,  admirable  iuiitativo  powers,  and 
ninil)Ie  deftness;  while  the  iiousewifo  deliji;hts  in  their 
iKtix  l(!ss  step,  quiet  <'onduct,  polite  atul  unobtrusive 
iiiiiiinrr,  and  ixat  a[)pearcince.  But,  alas  I  even  in 
t'lfir  virtues  the  enemy  finds  stains.  Beneath  the 
Metii^ol  lurks  the  Tartar.  Tiic  neatness  is  allowed 
to  he  superficial  only;  politeness  covers  deceit;  nieek- 
noss  is  but  cowardice,  and  an  inilex  of  slavish  fjubjec- 
tioii.  Their  eeoiioniy  sinks  cither  into  niiseily  greed, 
or  sprin-^s  uiuK'r  the  promptings  of  vanity  intocxtrav- 
iiLjniit,  recklessness.  Their  imitative  powers  are  but 
iiirrhunical,  and  have  never  risen  to  the  itivcntive 
s|ilrit  of  the  Americans.  Their  stunted  minds  have 
riiilcd  to  grasp  the  progressive  enterprise  of  our  insti- 
tutions. Their  speculative  ideas  are  spurred  to  action 
l)y  the  ganibling  table.  Tlieir  energy  never  rises 
ahove  a  sluggish  perseverance  which  sinks  into  iner- 
tia when  the  task  is  done.  Like  a  chikl  they  learn 
rapidly  the  ruilimentary  principles,  but  the  effort 
sct'Hi.s  to  exhaust  them.  Herein  lies  a  clue  to  the  sta- 
tionary condition  of  their  empire,  awed  by  the  an- 
ti(|nity  of  its  civilization,  tranuneled  by  its  unwieldy 
system  of  education,  and  overwhelmed  by  an  exces- 
sive populace  which,  absorbed  by  the  struggle  for  ex- 
i.^tnice,  has  sunk  into  superstition,  and  writhes  beneath 
the  iron  heel  of  an  autocratic  despotism.  So  write  we 
tin  III  down,  good  and  bad,  particularly  bad  :  when  we 
cross  the  water  to  work  for  them  what  will  they 
say  of  us? 


Queen  of  the  Celestials  in  the  golden  mountains  of 
California,  during  the  year  1851,  was  Miss  Ah  Toy, 
though  the  mountains  proper  she  never  saw,  her 
Olympus  being  the  Dupont-street  hill.  There  she 
reigned,  white  men  kneeling  at  her  shrine,  and  fright- 
ening back  birds  of  darker  hue — white  men  presently 
to  shout  "the  Chinese  must  go! "  Aye,  the  lovely  Miss 


1f.i'. 


'Xi 


Ih  i 


366 


MONGOLIANIHM   IN   AMERICA. 


Toy  must  go.  The  glories  of  this  Eden  reaching  the 
ears  of  the  sisterhood  at  home,  soon  the  pathway  of 
the  Pacific  was  strewed  with  frail  fair  ones  from  tlit 
Flowery  Khigdom.  Women  are  cheap  in  China. 
Poor  indeed  is  he  wlio,  wanting  more,  has  hut  one 
wife;  tliough  prostitution  is  not  held  in  groat  disre- 
pute, the  men  very  justly  ruling  that  the  women's  sin 
cannot  be  greater  than  their  own.  Indeed,  if  many 
of  the  female  infants  were  not  drowned  at  birth,  Mon- 
golian millions  would  long  since  have  smoked  o[)iuui 
in  American  wigwams. 

It  was  a  fine  traffic,  bringing  peris  to  Paradise,  and 
the  honorable  Hip  Ye  Tung  company,  lieavtn-cuin- 
pellers  and  highbinders  trading  into  San  Francisco 
bay,  were  rich  men  before  the  end  of  1852,  since  wliicli 
time  6000  of  these  tielectable  chattels  have  licen 
brought  hither  at  a  good  profit,  thus  proving  the  taste 
of  the  people. 

Immediately  on  landing  they  were  taken  to  tlic 
house  of  the  company.  If  introduced  on  speculation, 
they  were  placed  on  sale  at  from  100  to  300  per  cent 
profit  on  cost  in  China,  and  were  critically  examined 
by  purchasers  from  town  and  country.  If  introduced 
for  acct)unt  of  otiiers,  the  women  were  held  til!  tlieir 
owner  paid  the  initiation  fee  of  .$40,  in  return  for 
which  the  company  agreed  to  defend  his  rights  to  the 
chattel  against  American  authorities,  rival  slave  deal' 
ers,  and  lovers,  the  latter  being  particularly  dan'^er- 
OU3.  A  regular  weekly  or  monthly  tax  was  further- 
more levied  on  every"  prostitute  for  the  same  purpose'. 

It  was  throuiih  no  fault  of  theirs  that  tlicv  wi  re 
what  they  were.  Omnipotence  must  lie  (|ucstioned 
about  it.  The  poor  creatures  were  generally  obtained 
by  purchase  among  the  largo-footed  river  jiopulation; 
many  were  decoyed  by  dealers  under  fahso  promises. 
or  forcibly  abducted.  The  famine-stricken  jiareiits 
found  it  hard  to  resist  the  temping  bait,  and  many 
were  only  too  glad  to  secure  for  the  child  the  prom- 
ised comforts. 


THE  FEMALE  ELEMENT. 


357 


They  were  little  more  than  children,  these  girls, 
3ay  from  twelve  to  sixteen,  many  of  tliem,  and  they 
knew  as  much  of  the  world  as  kittens — as  nmch  of 
what  were  their  rights  here  in  America,  and  oi'  what 
was  morality  throughout  Ood's  universe. 

They  used  to  stand  at  the  open  door,  enameled, 
bcdi/cned,  and  in  gaudy  apparel,  to  invite  the  passer-by; 
but  the  municipality  shui;  tlic  door,  whereupon  they 
showed  their  faces  at  a  wicket  or  window,  proclaim- 
in.;  their  presence  by  voice  and  taps  when  the  police 
wiir  not  too  near.  Within  was  a  front  room,  relieved 
Mcasioiuilly  with  flowers  and  drapery,  occupied  by 
rViiiii  two  to  six,  or  even  more,  women  ;  and  behind 
werr  II  immber  of  tiny  rooms,  or  frail  partitions  with 
I  rou^h  alcove  bed  provided  witli  a  mat,  ))ilh)W,  and 
i'hi)itz  curtain  ;  a  chair,  perliaps  a  cu|»l)oard,  with  a 
lamp,  some  chinaware,  and  tinsel  comj)lt!ted  the  fur- 
niture. Some  brotliels  supported  on  an  up])er  floor 
boudoirs  with  rich  furniture,  where  brilliant  robes  ami 
perfumed  air  charmed  the  more  fastidious  ])atrons. 
Chinamen  did  not  usually  consort  with  the  class  de- 
voted to  the  Melican  service,  but  visited  a  s})ecial  set. 

Celestials  share  fully  in  the  general  weakness  of  the 
lower  strata  of  mankind  for  holidays,  and  j)ossessing 
no  such  blessed  institution  as  the  Sabbath,  they  have 
supi>Ii(>d  the  deficiency  by  a  series  of  festivals  ;  i  honor 
of  deities,  heroes,  ancestors,  stars,  seasons,  and  ele- 
ments, which  (Mnbrace  one  third  (tf  tin  year,  and  form 
the  movable  feature  in  tin-  AxcmI  institutions  of  the 
Flowery  Kingdom.  The  otticial  almanac  gives  due 
notice  of  their  approach,  as  well  as  of  lucky  and  un- 
lucky days,  ch.'v  .ii  dress,  regulati(»MS,  and  other 
matters,  \\)r  no  step  of  in)j)ortaiice  may  bi'  undertaken 
without  consulting  its  rules.  Not  content  with  the 
tbnnidable  list  of  prescribed  holidays,  the  priests  ar- 
ran'j;e  celebrations  from  time  to  time  with  a  view  of 
iiKtvasing  the  sale  of  prayers,  incense,  and  candles,  a 
dchcnie  for  which  they  find  a  powerful  ally  in  the 


■»i,- 


.,,..» 


S63 


MONCOLIANISM   IN   AMKRICA. 


if 


■n 


populjir  HUporstition.  T.l'cre  an-  besides  birtliday 
foies,  not  only  in  lioiior  of  livinuj  fricMuls,  hut  of  de- 
r(>uHe<l  jincostors  ;  and  stcanuT  days  on  wliicli  Ut  frnvt 
arrivals  with  news  from  home,  or  to  take  leave  ofdc- 
paiiinj^  frl«'iids  who  shall  hear  nicHsaijjes  to  the  did 
folk.  llciH-c,  any  }K!rHon  with  the  will  niul  the  nicuiis 
can  always  find  an  cxcuso  for  recreation  ;  hut  since 
this  inclination  is  n<)t  j>revalent  ainoniLj  our  ( -liiiiesc, 
owin<j;  to  the  restless  strife  for  the  dear  d«illar  and 
the  restraint  of  our  customs,  only  a  few  of  the  most 
prominent  festivals  are  «d)serve«i,  and  ijjenei-ally  in  a 
(|uiet  way,  the  rest  being  abandoned  to  the  caic  nf  tin 
tempK'  assistants,  who  occasionally  honor  tin  in  hv 
li<>;htin»jj  a  candle  or  two  and  hoistintx  a  Ha<j:  ovt  i  the 
edifice.  It  was  found  necessary  to  conform  to  a 
ji;reat  extent  to  our  usages,  and  adopt  Siuiday  as  the 
day  of  rest,  and  for  it  have  been  reserved  the  various 
functions  of  washing  and  mending,  marketing  and 
promenading,  visiting  and  gambling,  A  mnnher  de- 
v«>tt^  the  day  to  reading  and  writing,  and  several  huii- 
dre«l  attend  our  Sunday-schools.  Laundrymen,  min- 
ers, and  traders,  are  less  yielding  in  this  respdt, 
except  in  so  far  as  to  indulge  the  appetiti'  with  a  few 
delicacies.  This  enjoyment  occurs  more  paiticulaily 
during  their  own  fetes,  and  Ji  sui-e  indication  of  their 
ap])roach  is  allorded  by  the  demand  on  pork  hut(li<  rs 
aud  poultry  dealers. 

The  Ni'W-Year  festival  overshadows  all  the  ri  st  in 
solonmity  as  well  as  fun,  and  none,  however  \h)OT, 
busy,  or  friendless  fail  to  celebrate.  Families,  Iniin- 
(Iries.  factories,  and  railroads  are  all  left  by  servants 
and  eniploves  to  shift  for  themselves,  mission  seliools 
are  neglected,  and  outlying  settlements,  mining  camps, 
and  ranclios,  are  abandoned,  if  possible,  for  the  ct  ii- 
tral  settlements,  where  a  round  of  pleasure  await.- 
them  for  a  week  or  more.  WIkmi  the  thin'jf  was  pos- 
hWAc.  they  ust>d  to  prefer  a  trip  to  the  home  c.uiitry, 
to  attend  the  family  gathering,  and  witness  the  gnind 
celebrations  at  the   capital   of  the  |>rovinces,  whicii 


THE   NFAV    YKAK. 


369 


ooiiiliiuo  for  tlirco  \V(>uks,  FFonro  tlie  Cliiiia  stoainors 
that  left  Sail  Frarifisco  durinuf  tlic  latter  part  of  the 
yi';ir  wort!  Well  filleil  with  passe iiyjcrs. 

The  Chinese  year  begins  with  th»!  first  luiw  moon 
after  the  sun  has  entered  vXipiarius,  hetweea  January 
21st  and  I^V^bruary  IDth.  The  year  has  twelve  months, 
wlii'h  correspond  to  the  moons,  and  aro  designated  as 
tlie  first,  second,  or  third  moon,  as  the  case;  may  bo. 
Tlii-^  'jiives  the  year  six  months  of  twentv-niiu!  davs, 
ami  SIN.  of  thirty  days,  leaving  a  surplus  of  days  to  be 
('oinliined  into  an  intercalary  month,  in  order  to 
rc'4uIuto  the  year  with  the  sun.  The  intercalation 
takes  place  about  once  in  three  years,  by  doubling  or 
n'lte.iting  one  of  the  spring  months.  The  years  are 
naiiied  according  to  their  position  in  the  cy<'le  of 
sixty  years,  a  com|)utation  which  began  '2('ili7  years 
B.  C.  They  are  also  formed  into  epochs,  each  of 
wliiili  corresponds  to  the  reign  of  an  einpeior,  a  sys- 
tem introduced  ia  i'^3  n.  C.  The  year  1 870  would 
I'ornspoiMl  to  the  '^'  \cnth  of  the  seventv-sixth  cycle, 
and  th(i  ninth  of  the  emperor's  reigti. 

Th(^  preparations  for  the  festival  are  most  elaborate. 
House,  body,  and  clothing  undergo  a  giMieral  cleans- 
ing and  renewal;  useless  or  worn-out  household  arti- 
clfs.  elotlK'S,  and  I'ubbish  are  consigned  to  tiie  bonfirt! 
with  pi't'sci'ilu'd  c(  reniouics,  and  a  fresh  supply  pro- 
cuird.  Scrolls  of  joy-|)ortending  red  pajx'r  are  pasted 
ovi  !•  (iitrances  ami  shrines,  on  walls  and  furniture, 
bearing  moral  insiM'iptions,  and  talismanic  mottoes, 
esp.ci.dly  the  word/"/',  happiue>s,  and  the  fivt^  bless- 
itigs  of  liealth,  riches,  long  life,  fiiends,  and  prosper- 
ity, [f  the  past  year  has  b^cn  prosperous,  the  old 
iiioltoi's  are  retained  ;  if  not,  others  are  seleeti'd  in 
tlie  hope  r)f  pro[)itiating  I'trtune  or  exorcising  ill-luck. 
KoMiiis,  windows,  and  balconii  s  are  liung  with  briglit 
p.ipci',  tinsel,  bunting,  and  hinterns  of  slight  baml>no 
frames  covered  with  tians[)arcnt  paper,  bearing  fanci- 
ful inscription  and  drawings  of  birds,  floweis,  and 
other  figures.      For    tiie  amusement  of  the  children 


960 


MON<;OLIANISM   IN   AMKKirA. 


|!n: 


I 'I 


I  ? 


transparencies  are  attaelied  so  as  to  revolve  l)y  the 
flow  of  the  Jieatecl  air.  Natural  antl  artiHciul  flowers 
form  a  iJ^reat  part  of  the  decorations,  particularly  tlio 
lily  bulbs  in  white  saucers,  the  emblem  of  puritv, 
which  it  is  sought  to  bring  into  bloom  for  this  st  asoii 
of  renovation.  The  fai^ades  of  restaurants  and  stniv.s 
are  gorgeous  in  the  extreme,  and  generally  rcpaiiiUd 
for  till'  occasion. 

The  iierson  nmst  be  thorouL'hly  bathed  even  at  tlic 
risk  of  a  cold,  the  head  shaven,  tlie  queue  rebraiih d, 
and  the  richest  attire  procured  that  means  will  buy 
or  hire;  for  not  only  lias  the  season  to  be  honond, 
but  family  pride  must  be  upheld,  with  respect  fnr 
superiors,  to  the  confusion  of  rivals  and  the;  awe  of 
inferiors.  The  inner  man  also  participates  in  tlie 
general  clumgi*,  and  eschewing  the  frugal  di«'t  of  rice 
and  tea  the  palat(>  shall  revel  in  the  choicest  viaiuls, 
to  which  tlu;  and)rosiai  flavor  of  the  idol's  benedietien 
has  biMMi  imi)arted. 

No  joy  is  unalloy>d,  however.  Bills  nmst  1)0  p.'iiil, 
and  all  accounts  settled  lu-fore  the  great  day,  and 
this  at  a  time  wlien  so  man\  di-mands  are  madi'  on  tlie 
purse.  IVIerchanfs  maki"  preparations  for  the  eiiui- 
gency,  and  st«)ck-taking  with  balancing  of  books,  is  the 
rule  during  the  final  month.  Collectors  are  desiiah  In  ^i 
e\en  to  the  mo^t  n-mote  corner  of  the  couiifiy, 
and  expressmen  groan  under  the  )>ressure  of  busiiii  ~s. 
A  few  persons  who  find  themselves  unal)!e  io  piy 
their  creditois,  or  to  make  satisfactory  arrangt  iiieii!.-v 
will  hide  till  the  old  y*ar  has  expired,  for  vlurinu  tlic 
New-Year's  season  there  must  be  no  intrusion  ef 
business.  Of  eours(\  there  are  disagreeable  jhmsoiis 
who  will  for'j;et  L'(»od  maimers  and  mortifv  a  deltier 
b}-  appearing  at  his  door  on  New-Year's  mom,  with 
lantern  in  hand  to  indicate  that  they  are  still  enL,a'j,'eti 
on  the  old-year  ei-rand.  But  as  a  rule  nothing  Imt 
good  wishes  and  joy  are  manifi\sted  at  this  season; 
old  rancor  must  lie  buried  and  friendship  reuewd; 
friends  may  die  by  the  sct)rc,  yet  no  allusion  Uiust  be 


CEIIKMONIKS   AND   CELKHUATION. 


361 


)  paiil, 

•,  aii(! 

)!l  tin' 

(■!iii  r- 

i>  till! 

i(  ]\M 

UlhT, 

;iii(  y.s. 

lH'llts^ 

o'    tlu* 

Mil      (if 

'isollrt 

iiiiior 

with 
^ivj;i'il 
liiit 

'\v'(l; 


S' 


t  be 


made  to  anythinjj;  which  miglit  cast  a  gloom  over 
the  festivities — private  sorrow  may  not  intrude  on 
public'  liappiiicss. 

Not  only  temporal  atluirs  are  .settled  at  this  time, 
but  tradition  has  it  that  the  gods  alwo  balance  ac- 
counts with  men,  and  pass  before  the  <'h)se  of  the 
viiU'  with  tlieir  statements  into  the  presence  of  the 
supt'i  ine  ruU.'r,  the  IV'arly  Emperor,  whence  they  re- 
turn oil  Ni'vv'-Vcar'sdayor  shortly'"  after.  Itbdiooves 
till'  multitude  therefore  to  look  to  their  spiritual  debts, 
.so  that,  they  may  not  be  represented  as  defaulters, 
and,  truly,  the  temples  an;  crowded  by  old  and  young 
of  both  sexes,  bearing  olferings  of  prayers,  incense, 
foot  I,  !i!  id  toys. 

As  the  «'Vi!iitful  midnight  approaches,  tin;  people 
bid  farewell  to  the  old  year  with  prescribed  i-ercmo- 
iiiis,  L''iving  thanks  for  bb'ssings  received;  and  then 
the  now  year  is  ushered  in  with  a  toasn  in  wine. 
Occiisioiial  discharges  of  fire -crackers  have  betokened 
the  impending  demonstration;  the  streets  are  filled 
with  peo|»le,  windows  teem  with  expectant  faces  bent 
toward  the  rows  of  fireworks  which,  susju^ided  on 
[Mill  s,  protrude  from  windows  and  l)alconies,  ready 
i,ot  only  to  greet  the  dawning  y<'ar  and  to  nmnifest 
tlio  general  happiness,  but  to  give  a  wholesome  warn- 
iii!j;  to  had  spirits,  to  drive  cH'  the  t'vil  influence  of  a 
jKist  yoar,  and  to  propitiate  the  gotls.  No  sooner  has 
the  witching  hour  struck  than  a  deafening  explosion 
.suecrrds,  one  h<»use  opening  the  (ire  and  the  nst  follow- 
ing 111  close  succession,  so  as  to  allow  no  cessation  of 
the  noise.  It  is  like  a  rattling  fusilade  amid  the 
boom  of  caimon.  The  streets  si'cm  to  be  ablaze, 
aiiii  soon  a  dense;  smoke  settles  on  the  neighborhood, 
wliili'  the  ground  Iteeonies  nuitted  with  red  and  bmwn 
r'lim.uits  of  iiveworks,  Neighbors  aj)pear  to  rival  otit^ 
aiKtiiu-r  in  departing  as  mucli  as  possible  frdni  their 
usual  (juiet  life,  and  in  creatiiig  tlu!  longest  and  loudest 
ui»ro,ir.  If  ordinary  nuansof  explosion  do  not  etl'ect 
Uiis,  they  discharge  the  bombs  in  barrels  and  tin  cans. 


■i 


m 


I  w 


If- 


W'^ 


M0N<IOLJAM.SM    ]X   AMEllU'A. 


r 


Patriarclis  vie  with  youuiuj.stdrs  in  pitcliing  slrim^cd 
exploHivca  from  roofs  and  l)alconi(S  upon  i]\r  lujitls  n\' 
the  scampering  ilirong,  or  in  firing  a  homb  at  t]ic  fci  t 
of  staid  citizens  and  donmn^  matrons.  Tlic  <]iui;i( - 
teristic  economy  appears  to  liav<'  liecn  discarded  witli 
the  departing  year,  nnd  wealtliy  ostal)lishm(Hts  •  x- 
|>end  several  liundred  dollars  on  fireworks,  hesidts 
large  amounts  on  decorations  and  for  liospitalil\-  dui'- 
iiig  the  festival.  The  first  morning  of  tlie  ye;ir  is 
frauLjht  witli  tiio  ''reatest  din.  hut  cixplosions  ar<'  tVc 
<i[Uent  all  through  the  week,  if  the  ])olice  pcn'mit  ilniii, 
and  when  they  <'ease  at  intervals,  tlie  ear  is  assailed 
by  boo-'iing  drums,  clashing  cyml)als,  and  sipieakiii!.' 
fiddles,  as  if,  as  with  us,  enthusiasm  wer«'  measur<d  ly 
noise,  and  patriotism  by  burned  pi»wfler. 

In  tlie  early  part  of  the  morning  e\ery  liousdielil 
assend)les  in  holiday  attire  to  assist  at  religious  .ser- 
vice, directed  by  tiie  head  of  the  family.  lleav<ii 
and  earth  are  first  adored,  then  the  various  gods  ef 
wealth,  war,  iiearth,  nu-rcy,  and  other  departimm> 
Ixifore  wliom  )fi^'erings  of  incense,  candles,  food,  ami 
toys  arc  placed,  to  ivmain  for  several  davs.  An(<>- 
tral  tablets,  and  senior  members  of  the  family  aiv 
;wJored  with  low  prostrations,  and  all  join  inspreadiiHi 
choi<^;  viands  .i*r  tlie  dej)arted,  who  are  implored  t" 
grant  their  mediation  and  protection.  The  next  duty 
is  to  visit  th(^t<  'nj)li  '.  whieli  are  constantly  tilled  with 
a  devout  multitude  of  praise-gl\« cs  and  favor-seekeis. 
adding  their  quota  to  the  '  lass  of  olferings.  Almost 
every  day  during  the  firs*^  half  of  the  month  1ms  its 
specified  ceremonies,  for  difl'erent  <  lasses  of  society. 
1'he  pious  set  aside  the  gj-eater  part  of  the  fir-f  d;iy 
for  worship,  n^si-rving  feasting  and  rioting  foi'  oiiur 
days,  but  there  are  not  many  of  our  Chinese  who 
overburden  themselves  with  devotion  to  ])e;iictul 
deities,  and  since  the  rioting  itscdf  keeps  oft"  the  li-iids 
a.nd  imps  they  feel  safe  in  abandoning  themseh  •  -  t" 
rcfvelry. 

The  early  crowtl  of  merry-andrews,  spectator^,  .uxl 


>    M* 


NK W  ^■  EAU  S   (  EllEMON  1 ES. 


•.w^ 


teniplt'-vlsitors  is  soon  varied  by  a  throng  of  silk- 
decked  callers,  and  of  son'ants  wlio  rush  to  leave 
ciinls  of  ('(»ML;ratulations  on  those  friends  of  their 
iiiasttis  Avjio.sf  inferiority  of  rank  or  aj^o  obliu;es  tlieni 
to  make  the  first  call,  "Kun;^]ii,  kung  hil"  *•  [  wish 
Villi  joy,"  or  the  phrase  "ne\vjo\'.  new  joy;  '^e-t  rich, 
oct  rich!"'  is  on  everhody's  lips,  in  street  or  house. 
To  lliis  is  jidded  a  wish  for  in«-ivased  prosjxrity,  con- 
tiiiU'd  Jiealth,  and  other  blessings  ;ip[)r()priate  to  the 
condition  of  the  person  addressed.  1\)  merchants  tin- 
wisli  is  expressed  that  lie  may  strike  good  Itargains 
ami  make  larije  i)rofits :  to  oftieials,  that  thev  may 
adviince  in  rank  M'ith  increased  pay;  to  old  folks,  that 
tlu  ir  years  may  be  numerous;  to  nuuried  ]teople,  tliat 
ii  SI  HI  niay  come  to  them.  When  a  visitor  arrives, 
tin  linst  advances  towanl  him  m(»re  or  less,  in  aceord- 
niici  with  his  I'ank,  each  one  grasps  and  shakes  his 
own  hand  jis  lie  bows,  and  then  follows  a  series  of  the 
many  observances  of  etitpiette  in  gesture  and  lan- 
'4uage  with  which  these  peo[)le  are  atilieted.  Klegance 
of  (•oni|)liments  and  extreme*  self-deprecation  aie  the 
main  propositions.  If  one  inipiires,  "  How  fares  your 
illustiious  consort r'  the  other  rejdies,  "The  mean  oc- 
<U|»ant  i>f  my  miserabl(>  hov(d  isM'cll."  The  question, 
•Isyoiu'  noble  son  doing  well  T'  solicits  the  answer 
that  "the  contem[)tibIe  <log  is  progn^ssing."  Inferiors 
liiiw  tlieir  deepest  and  droj>  on  one  knoi'.  while  cliil- 
(Jreii  |)rosti'ate  themselves  and  ]»ress  the  giound  with 
the  head  befor<'  theii'  pan-ntsand  elders.  Tlndiouse- 
wif(\  if  then*  is  one,  aji[)ears  at  intervals  to  (dialh'nge 
admiration  with  the  minarets  and  wings  whicli  crest 
hci'  .  lal)orate  hair  structure,  while  demi-.T(dms  toddle 
around  in  spangled  cap  and  bright  elotlu's,  protected 
hv  amulets  innumerable.  Kverv  callei-  is  exi)ecte(l  to 
im]>lore  the  pot-bellied  idols  for  their  blessing  (»n  the 
house,  and  to  honor  the  lavish  liospitalitv  bv  tastinsj- 
<M  paste,  fruit,  or  sweetmeat,  si])ping  a  tiny  cup  of  tea 
"r  li(|uor,  and  takitjg  a  cigarette,  all  of  which  stand 
prepared  on  lacquered  trays,      l/wpioi-s  and  i-igars  are 


'1 


mi 


;  i'l 


I'? 


nil 


864 


MON(J<)LIAi\ISM    IN'   AMERICA. 


chiefly  rosurvcd  for  white  cullers,  who  receive  a  pulitc 
welcome,  despite  the  well-known  anti-coolie  char.u  ti  r 
of  the  niajt)rity  of  these  thirsty  souls.  Canis  ot'iicai 
red  i)aper,  with  stamped  name,  are  exchan«;t<|^  ai„J 
their  number  and  class  exhibited  with  considi  ral)lo 
pride,  and  even  kept  permanently  on  view.  I'rest  nts 
of  fancy  articles,  toys,  and  sweets  are  also  customary. 

At  night  the  Chinese  (puirter  assumes  a  brilliant 
aspect,  with  the  rows  of  fanciful  lanterns,  the  glitttr- 
ing  tinsel,  and  the  windows  ablaze  with  light.  Tlio 
streets  are  almost  ileserted,  but  from  the  homes  ((Hiic 
the  sounds  of  music,  chat,  and  merriment,  particulaily 
from  the  restaurants.  The  great  eflbrt  is  to  crowd  all 
pos.sible  amusement  into  this  season.  A  holocaust  nf 
pigs  and  poultry,  liquor  and  betel-nuts,  opium  and  to- 
bacco, tempt  the  j>alate  and  opj)ress  tin;  stoinacli. 
cri'ate  hilarity,  and  K'ad  to  ebullition.  Theatres  djuii 
in  the  morning  and  kee[)  the  play  going  till  past  iiiid- 
niiilit,  with  brief  intervals  for  refreshments,  while  tlir 
gambling-hells  allow  no  rest  whatever.  The  ileliriuiii 
lasts  a  Week,  and  then  conies  the  awakening,  with 
aching  heails  and  empty  pockets.  The  youngx'r  iiK'in- 
bersof  the  connnunity  overconu;  the  weakness  of  the 
fiesh  with  more  natural  diversion. 

In  the  alleys  may  be  witnessed  the  favorite  game 
of  shuttle-cock,  ))layed  with  an  idastic  ball,  one  inch 
and  a  half  in  tliameti'r.  made  of  dry,  scaly  fisliskiii, 
weighted  with  a  cop[>er  coin,  and  set  with  a  few 
feathers  three  to  four  inches  in  length,  to  mxr  it 
poise.  Thc>  })layers  form  a  circle  and  seek  to  kcrj> 
the  l)all  from  touching  the  ground,  by  batting  it  with 
toe  and  knee;  or  sometinu's  oidy  with  the  soh'  ot'  tin 
shoe,  a  movi'ment  which  requires  a  peculiar  and  ajjjilr 
twist  of  the  leg.  Kite-Hying  is  also  a  ])o})ular  aniiist- 
ment,  the  kites  representing  the  forms  of  l)irds,  tishes. 
and  other  creatures.  Crowds  »f  boys  may  be  stnii 
njarching  from  house  to  house  with  a  huge  dragon  ct 
bamboo  frame  covered  with  cloth,  borne  aloft  on  sticks, 
which  are  raised  and  lowered  to  impart  motion  to  the 


\:M'^ 


OIHKR    FKSTIVALS. 


866 


monster.  With  this  sacretl  image  thty  offer  to  drive 
out  evil  spirits  from  any  locahty  for  a  small  coii- 
hiicleration. 

The  next  festival  of  note  is  the  Feast  of  Ijantorns, 
in  lionor  of  the  first  full  moon  of  the  year,  which  is 
extensively  participated  in, since  it  takes  i)la(e  in  the 
ovi'niiig.  The  houses  are  illuminated,  within  and 
without,  by  fancifully  colored  lanterns,  and  a(l(»nird 
with  scrolls,  and  a  procession  parades  the  streets  with 
banners  and  lights,  discharging  fireworks  and  discours- 
ing; celestial  music.  The  moon  is  again  the  ohject  of 
iKloiation  during  the  harvest  festival  :  but  since  this 
concerns  chiefly  the  agricultural  classes,  it  is  not 
closcily  observed  in  California.  There  is  a  considera- 
ble innnolation  of  pigs  and  fowls,  however,  on  the 
Kpicurcan  altar,  and  out-door  gatherings,  with  ])ian 
wofshii)  and  stellar  observations,  which  bring  re\enue 
to  astrologers  and  butchers.  The  four  seasons  of  tlic 
equinox  and  solstice  are  observed  with  moresolenmity. 
and  a  well-clad  multitude  throngs  the  temples  with 
oti'erings  to  propitiate  the  idols  during  these  moment- 
ous turning-points  of  nature. 

Shoitly  after  the  spring  festival  of  tiie  Feeding  of 
the  Dead,  described  under  burial,  a  temple  celebration 
tjjkes  place.  The  abodes  of  the  deities  arc  adorned 
with  the  usual  tinsel,  streamers,  and  synd)olic  banners, 
and  before  the  (d lief  idol  a  roast  pig  is  presented  amid 
bursting  bombs  and  orchestral  din.  Mi'anwiiile  a  pro- 
cos.sion  is  formed,  and  presently  the  van-guard  ajipears, 
bearing  poles  strung  with  fire-crackers  which  maintain 
:\n  ineessant  rattling,  eaidi  pole  being  romounted  with 
ties])  explosives  for  a  new  fusilarle.  wjiile  tin-  others 
are  taking  their  turn.  ^lusieians  follow  with  drums, 
»vnd)als,  and  stringed  instruments;  tlien  a  band  of 
women  with  lanterns,  leading  a  display  of  gigantic 
animal  figures,  and  carcasses  of  consecrated  |>igs.  the 
ijrnes  fi-om  which  allure  a  jaunty  personage  behind, 
arrayed  in  rich  and  ancient  costume,  and  attended  l>y 
a  long   retinue   bearing   end)roidered  banners,  fans, 


441 
1 


^  i 


nl'l 


3U0 


MONOOLIANI.SM   IN   AMKUll'A. 


curious  wcapoii.s,  and  flowers.  Bchincl  them  inaicli 
the  representatives  of  various  guilds,  and  last  of  all  a 
nuinlu'r  of  limits  of  ustoundiuij;  make,  who  do  not  faii 
to  attract  a  crowd  of  admiriiij;'  followers.  Aft<r  hold- 
ing religious  exercises  before  tlie  temple  an  exhiLititHi 
is  given  on  consecrated  ground.  Bondjs  are  cxplorkd 
containing  small  parachutes,  and  whosoever  is  ahli'  h> 

.'Secure  one  of  these  as  they  (k'scend  is  assureil  of  g I 

fortune.  There  is  (piite  a  crowd  (»f  asj)iiants.  and 
the  struggle  is  awftd  to  heiiold  :  clotlies  go  to  wnck, 
physiognomies  are  ruined,  yells  rend  tlie  air.  and 
after  all  his  exei'tions  the  victor  may  not  gain 
more  than  a  tattered  remnant  as  an  evidence;  of  lii^ 

pl'0\V(>SS. 

The  chief  attraction  for  the  amusement-si.'ckers  i.- 
the  drama,  the  taste  ior  which  nmst  be  stronger  than 
with  us,  since  a  comnumity  so  poor  and  smallet)ni|i:ir 
atively  as  the  Chinese  can  sujjjjort  two  tlu-aters with  a 
large  force  of  artiste "S  devotetl  almo.st  wholly  to  what 
may  be  termed  legitin)ate  drama.  The  drama  is  of 
celestial  origin,  as  may  l)e  exjtected,  although  tradition 
has  failed  to  shrouil  it  in  the  customary  mist  of  an- 
titjuity.  Only  souie  eleven  centuries  ago,  tku'ingacel- 
ebration  in  honor  of  the  moon,  an  imj)erial  seivitor 
became  so  fervent  in  his  adoration,  that  he  flung  liis 
staff  as  an  offering  tothe  luminarv.  But  lo!  the  stall' 
was  transformed  into  a  bridge,  upon  which  the  servitor 
and  his  exalted  master  passed  from  our  })lanet  to  tin' 
jiale  satillite.  A  garden  and  ])alace  of  wondrous 
beauty  opened  before  them,  and  beneath  a  ciniiannm 
tree  they  saw  a  bevy  of  noble-looking  women  s<  attd 
on  white  birds  which  warbled  the  most  dcKK  ious 
strains  in  resj^onse  to  still  sweeter  melody  from  un- 
seen lips.  On  their  return  to  earth,  the  imi)erial  (  nin- 
poscr  was  charged  to  reproduce  the  lunar  nnisic  and 
this  was  performed  liy  '500  singing  girls  in  dithyiani- 
bic  form,  in  the  emperor's  pear-orchard.  Play-actors 
are  for  this  reason  known  also  as  the  pear-orcliard 
fraternity. 


1  ' 


THE  DRAMA. 


:.07 


f 


The  first  of  these  celestial  |)erft>nnaiK'es,  which,  lik 
nijr  Harcliaiialiaii  chorus,  have  ;j;ra(hially  ilevt;lopo(l 
into  i(»iiinntic  (haiiui,  was  given  in  San  Francisco  at 
tlir  Ann  lican  theater,  antl  then  in  a  hiiikling  l>rou<^ht 
t'loin  China,  which  was  erected  on  ])u))»>nt  stn-et,  near 
(iioeii,  ant!  o|iened  on  tlie  Ulkl  of  JJiceniher,  185:2. 
Th'-  int<'rior  was  ornamented  with  jtaintings,  liiihtid 
Itv  twenty -two  variegated  lanterns,  and  fitted  witli  all 
tlic  ]iiira])lierna]ia  in<  klent to  their  ))lay-ae<iii'LC.  Since 
tliiii  vari(»us  Idealities  serve»l  for  the  di-ania  till  I8()8, 
A\h(ii  the  first  one  of  two  theatres  was  ireeted  on 
Juckson  street.  The  second  rose  in  1S77  in  Wash- 
iii'4liin  street  under  the  title  of  ]jook  Jjun  Foong,  Ini- 
juiiiil  Show  House.  Both  have  a  large  troop  of 
actors,  ^^  ho  are  ))rovided  with  hoard  and  lodging  in 
thi'  i)uilding.  The  extt'rior  presents  the  usual  dingy 
l)ii«  k  facade  of  the  quarter,  with  a  sini])le  name  sign 
(.VI  r  the  entrance.  The  ])assages  heading  to  the  inte- 
rior are  lined  with  stalls  for  the  sale  of  fruit,  sweet- 
lixats,  hetel-nuts,  and  other  delicacies.  The  audito- 
rium is  ev(.'n  more  dingy  and  unpretentious  than  the 
exterior,  devoid  of  decorations,  save  a  scroll  here  and 
tli(  re,  and  not  even  on  a  par  with  a  travelling  circus 
for  comfort.  The  ornamental  lanterns  have  heen  re- 
jijaccd  hy  bare  gas-fixtures.  There  are  two  divisions, 
a  jiit  and  a  gallery,  both  fitted  with  rough,  uncush- 
ioiicd  honches  with  back-rests,  rising  (»ne  above  the 
otlier.  The  gallery  extends  on  both  sides,  the  whole 
It  iigth  of  the  room,  the  extreme  left  of  it  being  set 
asi(K'  for  women,  and  the  right  fitted  with  three  boxes, 
C([ually  comfortless.  The  i>ar(juette  of  the  largest 
theater,  on  Washington  street,  holds  GOO  persons,  and 
the  gallery  aeconnnodates  two-thirds  mori>.  They 
aro  generally  vvell  filhxl,  and  present  one  sombre  mass 
of  hiaek  hats  and  dark  blouses,  without  a  relieving 
streak,  save  where  a  visitor  lifts  his  hat  fora  moment 
to  air  his  shining  pate,  or  where  some  eomfort-loving 
spectators  have  kicked  off  their  shoes  and  planted 
their  feet  against  the  backs  of  their  neighbors. 


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Hiotographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


33  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER, NY.  U580 

(716)  873-4503 


.'4' 


i 


868 


MONGOLIANISM  IN   AMERICA. 


m . 


The  stage  consists  of  an  open  raised  platform,  like 
that  of  a  lecture  hall,  without  wings,  shifting  scenes, 
drop-curtain,  or  stage  machinery.  In  the  rear  are  the 
doors,  closed  by  red  curtains,  the  right  to  enter  by, 
the  left  for  exit,  both  leading  to  the  green-room,  which 
is  also  the  property-room,  although  a  part  of  tlie 
parapiicrnalia  and  wardrobes  is  kept  in  big  boxes  on 
the  sid(!  of  the  stage.  By  the  side  of  these  stand 
some  chairs  and  tables,  which  serve  for  scenery  as 
required,  but  are  at  other  times  used  by  the  actors  to 
lounge  upon  while  waiting  for  their  cue.  De])rlved 
of  the  pleasing  delusions  of  curtain  and  scenery,  the 
audience  is  obliged  to  rely  on  the  imagination  to  cover 
the  glaring  incongruities  and  supply  the  many  defi- 
ciencies. Change  of  dress  is  often  made  in  full  view 
of  the  spectators  ;  a  warrior  will  fall,  undergo  the  ter- 
lific  death  struggles,  give  the  final  throes,  and  rise  the 
next  moment  to  join  his  chatting  and  smoking  con- 
freres on  tlie  side  of  the  stage.  Actors,  and  even 
spectators,  who  are  allowed  on  the  stage,  will  cross  to 
and  fro  between  the  players,  and  perform  other  im- 
proper acts  during  the  most  interesting  part  of  the 
drana.  Scene-shifting  is  replaced  by  posting  placards 
giving  notice  that  the  scene  is  a  city,  farm,  forest,  or 
interior  of  a  building.  To  increase  the  effect,  a  box 
or  stool  is  added  to  represent  a  mountain  or  a  liouse. 
Occasionally  an  imaginary  line  is  drawn  in  tlie  air  to 
denote  a  wall,  against  which  the  actor  will  kick  with 
ludicrous  earnestness.  If  tlie  playwright  wishes  to 
represent  a  man  going  into  a  house  and  slamming  the 
door  in  the  face  of  another,  the  serving-man  hands  a 
cliair  to  one  actor,  who  walks  across  the  stage  and 
plants  it  violently  at  the  foot  of  another  player,  taking 
ins  stand  beside  it  to  intimate  that  he  is  now  within 
the  house.  To  represent  the  crossing  of  a  bridge,  the 
ends  of  a  board  are  laid  on  two  tables,  which  stand  a 
short  distance  apart ;  an  actor  mounts  with  the  aid  of 
a  stool,  crosses  on  the  board,  or  imaginary  bridsre, 
from  cue  table  to  another,  and  thence  steps  to  the 


UPOX  THE  BOARDS. 


fl(wr.  A  horsebaxik  ride  is  pictured  by  mounting  boy- 
liko  an  imaginary  steed,  and  applying  an  equally  un- 
substantial whip.  Giants  and  otlier  figures  are 
introduced  with  but  little  effort  to  deceive  the  audi- 
oiu'O  as  to  their  composition.  However  crude  and 
«j;r()tosque  such  representations  may  appear  to  us,  they 
arc  (luitc  comme  it  faut  to  the  children  of  the  Flowery 
Kingdom. 

]v|ually  different  are  their  ideas  of  music.  The 
orchestra  is  placed  in  the  background  of  the  stage, 
between  the  doors,  and  consists  of  four  or  six  per- 
fi)rin('is,  who  keep  up  an  hicessant  extempore  jumble 
of  l)iingiiig,  scraping,  and  piphig,  as  terrific  as  it  is 
uiii(iuc,  varying  from  a  plaintive  wail  to  a  warlike 
clash  as  the  play  demands,  and  as  the  individual  taste 
of  tlic  musician  may  dictate.  When  the  actor  spouts 
his  i)art  there  appears  to  be  no  abatement  of  the  noise, 
but  rather  an  effort  to  drown  his  words,  which  he  re- 
sists by  shouting  at  the  top  of  his  voice.  The  more 
excited  the  actor  becomes,  the  more  earnestly  the 
iiiusicians  puff  their  cigarettes  and  strive  to  do  justice 
to  the  streiiiith  of  their  arms  and  the  material  of  their 
instruments,  without  any  other  method  apparently 
than  to  break  the  musical  bars,  to  blend  all  discord 
into  one,  and  to  run  riot  generally.  During  certain 
recitatives  and  arias  the  violin  is  allowed  to  predomi- 
nate, and  a  melody  is  produced  which  would  not  be 
unplcasing  were  it  not  for  the  jarring  plaintivencss  of 
tlie  tones,  which  reject  the  sensuous  element,  and  are 
devoid  of  graceful  modulation.  They  possess  an  im- 
perfect system  of  notation  for  melodies,  but  no  knowl- 
edi^ci  of  harmony  and  other  important  elements.  The 
musical  and  dramatic  arts  arc  equally  backward,  and 
have  |)rol)ably  made  no  advance  for  a  millenary  under 
tiie  sumptuary  laws  which  hamper  all  development  in 
the  orient.  A  retrogression  may  just  as  likely  have 
set  in.  for  although  musicians  are  raising  themselves 
to  hinrh  honors  and  imperial  favor,  our  ears  cannot 
discover  the  charm  and  influence  by  which  they  do  it, 

Essays  and  Miscellany    24 


BIIUBH 


iiii  I  m 
1  ',.t  It 


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8W  ■  ! 


m^-  M  ■■■(■, 


370 


MONGOLIAXISM  IN  AMERICA. 


dis- 


and  on  which  their  Great  Sage  has  so  loftih 
coursed ;  nor  can  we  find  any  rehc  of  the  skilful  artists 
spoken  of  by  tradition,  who,  like  Orpheus  and  Anipliion, 
moved  the  very  stones  with  their  strains,  and  cnst  a 
spell  upon  the  organic  creation.     The  musical  iiistiu- 
ments  are  quite  numerous,  however,  and  each  meiiild- 
of  the  orchestra  is  required  to  manipulate  several,  at 
one  time  or  successively.     The  percussion  instruments 
which  f(jrin  the  pieces  de  resistance,  consist  of  a  big 
tomtom  standing  on  its  end,  another,  small  and  flat, 
like  a  covered  tambourine,  a  tambour,  a  goni>;  sus- 
pended by  a  cord,  a  small,  sonorous  mortar  of  wot  id, 
having  the  rounded  upper  side  covered  with  skin,  and 
a  tiny  square  sounding-board,  fastened  to  the  side  of  a 
stick,  all  of  which  are  beaten  with  drumsticks.     There 
are  also  the  cymbal  and  castanet,  the  latter  beiiiu  a 
heavy  black  piece  of  wood,  some  nine  inches  in  lenotli, 
which  is  held  in  the  hand  while  the  other  piece,  (oii- 
nected  with  it  by  a  cord  at  the  top,  is  made  to  fall 
against  it.     The  stringed  instruments  embrace  guitars 
of  several  varieties,  one  being  a  flat,  solid,  pear-slia])ed 
sounding-board,  with  a  short  neck,  curved  at  the  luad, 
and  l)earing  four  strings,  which  are  fingered  in  pairs: 
another  kind  has  a  smaller,  circular  board,  with  a  long 
neck  and  two  strings.     Some  have  bodies  of  snial', 
flat  tomtoms  with  long  neck  and  one  to  three  strings, 
but  with  less  frets  than  our  guitars.     They  are  usually 
struck  with  a  bone  or  flint.     The  violin  is  a  small 
heavy  tambourine,  with  a  long  neck,  upon  which  two 
strings  cross  one  another,  holding  between  thcni,  be- 
low the  crossing,  the  bowstring,  which  accordingly 
touches  one  string  on  the  upper  the  other  on  the  lower 
side.     Wind  instruments  consist  of  trumpet,  two  con- 
nected hautboys,  like   the   Greek    double  flute,  and 
bamboo  flutes,  some  with  lateral  blow-hole,  and  about 
six  finger-holes. 

The  play  appears  to  be  a  mixture  of  melodrama, 
farce,  and  circus  performance,  representing  a  train  of 
events  or  an  epoch  from  ancient  history,  with  love 


THE  PLAY. 


871 


incidents  and  battles,  rendered  in  dialogue,  recitative, 
and  pantomine.  Modern  events  are  not  in  favor  with 
this  antiquated  people.  One  drama  continues  for 
weeks  or  even  months,  and  is  given  in  nightly  install- 
int'iits  of  a  few  scenes,  or  an  act,  like  the  serial  in  a 
maL;azine,  taking  up  the  hero  from  the  hour  of  his 
birtli  and  giving  his  career  as  doughty  warrior,  or 
pompous  emperor,  till  he  descends  into  the  grave, 
laden  with  glory.  There  is  no  condensation  or  rapid 
dcvoloi)ment  of  plot,  as  in  our  modernized  drama,  but 
every  puerile  triviality,  obscene  detail,  and  revolting 
deed,  is  elaborately  portrayed,  and  nothing  is  left  to 
tlie  imagination  except  scenery  and  artistic  effect. 
Purely  pantomimic  passages  are  not  frequent,  for  voice 
and  mimicry  generally  combine,  the  sharp  falsetto 
prodominating  to  a  disagreeable  extent,  both  in  male 
and  female  parts,  mingled  with  screams  and  shouts. 
At  intervals  a  force  of  dignitaries,  soldiers,  and  de- 
pendents enter  hi  procession  to  display  their  rich 
dresses  of  costly  fabrics  and  embroidered  dragons, 
birds,  flowers,  and  tracery  in  gold,  silver,  and  silk  of 
all  colors.  The  face  is  often  enamelled,  or  smeared 
with  paint,  especially  for  grotesque  characters,  and 
wairiors  strut  in  plumed  helmet  and  fierce  nmstache. 
Women  are  excluded  from  the  scenic  boards,  their 
part  Ixiing  assumed  by  men  who  are  trained  from 
childhood  to  the  gait,  manner,  and  voice,  and  deceive 
even  a  close  observer  by  their  disguise.  The  fingers 
are  often  tapered  from  infancy,  and  the  feet  confined 
in  small  boots,  or  stilts  are  used  when  they  act,  the 
foot  of  wliich  resemble  ladies'  shoes. 

Dancing  is  occasionally  introduced  by  actors,  but  it 
is  not  nmcli  in  vosxue,  for  Chinese  reo-ard  it  as  a  vul- 
garit}'  and  a  fatiguing  exercise,  and  leave  it  almost 
entirely  to  the  Tartars.  In  the  early  days  of  Cali- 
fornia, the  latter  gave  special  exhibitions  of  the  po- 
etry of  motion,  wherein  men  and  women  appeared, 
advancing  and  receding  with  an  ambling  gait,  chang- 
ing sides  and  bowing,  but  without  joining  hands. 


372 


MONGOLIANISM  IN  AMERICA. 


During  the  course  of  the  play  a  band  of  warriors 
enters  the  scene,  capering  and  frisking  on  iuiagliiarv 
chargers,  standing  at  times  on  one  leg  and  whirliiiLj 
around,  at  others  dashing  headlong  forward.  Sud- 
denly the  men  tlirow  one  foot  into  the  air,  wheel 
round  and  waft  their  prancing  steeds  into  vacuum. 
They  then  form  in  line  and  begin  the  onslauglit  in 
earnest,  dealing  spear-thrusts,  sword-cuts,  and  blows, 
with  a  rapidity  tliat  betokens  long  practice  and  extra- 
ordinary skill.  Combatants  fall  fast  and  thick  during; 
the  action,  but  rise  the  next  moment  to  restore  tliu 
vital  spark  with  a  cup  of  tea,  and  be  ready  for  a  sec- 
ond extinction.  Blood  and  thunder  realizations  are 
evidently  in  favor  among  the  timid  celestials,  and 
probably  not  one  of  the  original  characters  remains 
alive  at  the  end  of  the  piece.  After  awhile  the  strug- 
gle becomes  hot,  and  the  men  strip  to  the  waist. 
Warriors  pursue  warriors  ;  high  tables  are  cleared  in 
a  bound,  and  the  performers  land  on  the  bare  floor, 
falling  heavily  on  the  flat  back  or  side  with  a  sliook 
as  if  every  bone  has  been  broken  ;  but  ere  the  inex- 
perienced visitor  has  time  to  make  an  exclamation, 
the  men  are  up,  and  pirouetting  wilder  than  ever;  per- 
forming somersaults  one  over  the  other,  spinning  like 
tops,  wheeling  on  hands  and  feet,  doing  lofty  tum- 
bling, and  concluding  with  extraordinary  contortions — 
all  in  confused  medley,  yet  in  eager  rivalr}'^  to  surpass 
one  another.  This  is  the  most  interesting  part  of  the 
entertahiment  to  a  stranger,  who  is  apt  to  conclude 
that  the  strongest  dramatic  jiower  of  the  Chinese  actor 
lies  in  his  feet.  The  imitative  propensity  of  the  jteo- 
ple  is  not  displayed  to  full  advantage  on  the  stage, 
for  although  the  mimicry  is  excellent  at  times,  and 
assists  the  tongue  to  render  the  acting  more  lively 
and  suggestive  than  with  us,  yet  there  is  a  lack  of 
soul,  of  expression,  a  failure  to  identif^'^  one's  self  with 
the  role,  to  merge  the  actor  in  the  character.  The 
degraded  position  of  actors  has  tended  to  oppose  ad- 
vancement in  the  histrionic  art ;  but  another  cause 


RETURN  OF  SIT  PING  QUAI. 


373 


may  be  found  in  the  undemonstrative  nature  of  the 
pruple.  The  incident  depicted  may  be  ever  so  excit- 
iu;^;  or  ludicrous,  the  character  ever  so  grotesque,  yet 
the  audience  manifests  neither  approval  nor  dissatis- 
faction, beyond  a  quiet  grin  of  delight,  to  which  the 
actor  rcs[)onds  with  interest.  Trivialities  do  not  ap- 
jitar  to  tire  it,  as  they  would  us ;  cruelty  is  witnessed 
witliout  a  thrill,  and  obscenities  pass  as  a  matter  of 
course.  All  is  not  riveted  attention,  however,  for 
ulicn  ears  and  eyes  fail  to  convey  the  full  measure  of 
interest,  the  other  senses  come  to  the  rescue.  Loud 
talk  is  unconcernedly  indulged  in,  and  pipes,  tea, 
sweetmeats  and  the  like,  are  generally  discussed,  as 
if  it  were  resolved  to  make  the  most  of  every  nu)inent, 
and  let  no  pleasure  escape. 

Tlie  play  usually  begins  at  seven  in  the  evening 
and  continues  till  one  or  two  in  the  morning;.  Those 
who  come  early  pay  twenty-five  to  fifty  cents,  at  ten 
o'clock  half  price  is  charged,  and  towards  midnight 
the  price  of  entrance  falls  to  a  dime.  The  length  of 
tliu  drama  makes  it  almost  impossible  for  even  the 
most  devoted  theatre-goer  to  follow  the  whole  rendi- 
tion, and  submitting  to  the  inevitable  he  is  content  to 
catch  a  glimpse  of  a  scene  or  an  episode. 

If  you  desire  to  witness  one  of  these  plays,  and  can 
make  up  your  mind  to  endure  six  hours  a  night  for  a 
month  or  two,  a  mixture  of  the  vilest  stenches  that 
ever  oflfended  civilized  nostrils — opium  effluvium,  to- 
bacco-smoke, pig-pen  putridity,  and  rancid  asafoetida, 
ste[)  with  me  and  seat  yourself  on  any  of  those  board 
benclics.  But  first,  and  as  a  means  of  self-defence, 
li,L;lit  a  cigar  and  smoke,  for  by  so  doing  alone  can  you 
clear  a  cubic  foot  of  space  about  your  head  of  its  in- 
tolerable odor. 

The  j)ortion  of  history  played  to-night  is  entitled, 
"The  Keturn  of  Sit  Ping  Quai."  Many,  many  years 
ago  there  lived  in  the  Empire  of  the  Sun  a  poor 
young  man  named  Sit  Ping  Quai,  who  had  married  a 
young  wife,  likewise  poor  save  in  beauty  and  accom- 


BUUIiiiiiiiiMai 


374 


MONGOLTANISM  IN  AMERICA. 


plisliments.  Her  naino  was  Wong  She.  Sit  PIikt 
Quai  was  noble  though  poor,  and  Wong  She  liaj  a 
pure  and  faithful  heart. 

Happy  were  the  days  the  gods  granted  thorn  raoh 
other's  society.  But  hunger  pressed  heavily.  Wonir 
She  faded.  The  color  fled  from  her  face  afrrioliUd. 
Sit  Ping  Quai  could  not  endure  the  sight.  He  ji)iii((l 
tlie  army  of  the  great  emperor,  determined  to  win 
Wong  Slie  a  happier  lot  or  die.  Rising  rapidly  lie 
was  made  general,  and  sent  at  the  head  of  a  largo 
army  against  the  King  of  the  East. 

Sorrowful  was  the  leave-taking  and  inconsolalilo 
was  poor  Wong  She;  but  Sit  Ping  Quai  must  depart. 
Hastening  hence  he  fought  and  won  a  great  battle; 
but  by  some  mischance,  separating  from  his  army,  he 
was  captured  by  the  princess  Linfa,  only  child  and 
heir  to  the  King  of  the  East.  Linfa  loved  her  cap- 
tive, who  durst  not  tell  her  he  was  wedded;  for  in 
love  the  free  find  favor  while  enthralment  makes  its 
victim  uninteresting. 

Tlie  rich,  the  beautiful,  the  powerful,  the  suscepti- 
ble Linfa  caged  her  loved  one  in  her  castle,  drove  back 
his  army  with  great  slaughter,  and  then  wedded  liliii. 
Sit  Ping  Quai,  though  honest  as  married  men  go  was 
mortal ;  and  to  tell  the  truth  he  began  to  lik(^  it. 
With  the  dove-eyed  Linfa  to  love  him  and  minister  to 
his  wants  it  was  easy  to  forget  poor  Wong  Slie.  A 
letter,  however,  brought  by  a  messenger  revived  liis 
former  love  and  patriotism,  and  set  his  brain  at  work 
devising  means  of  escape. 

Now  none  niiifht  leave  the  Kinfjdom  of  the  East 
save  by  royal  permission.  Linfa,  however,  always 
had  in  her  possession  a  copy  of  the  king's  license,  l»"t 
how  should  Sit  Ping  Quai  obtain  possession  of  it  ^  in 
vain  he  begged  it  of  her,  first  under  one  pretense  anc! 
then  another;  love  was  quick-witted  and  suspicious. 
Finally  he  made  her  insensible  with  wine,  and  wliile 
in  that  condition  he  seized  the  license  and  mountiiii;' 
his  horse  rode  rapidly  away.     The  servants  told  their 


■ii 


THRILLING  SCENES. 


875 


niistress,  who  roused  herself  and  rushed  after  her 
faithless  sjDouse. 

And  now  behold  the  flourish  of  the  whip  and  spur 
about  tlic  stage  and  the  plunging  of  invisible  chargers 
as  Linfa  overtakes  her  lord  and  demands  his  destina- 
tion. "  I  am  only  riding  over  the  hills  for  pleasure," 
Sit  Ping  Quai  replied,  but  meanwhile  he  gave  his 
words  the  lie  by  driving  his  spurs  into  his  horse  and 
breaking  away.  But  tlie  princess  was  not  to  be  baf- 
fled. After  him  she  rode  fleeter  than  the  wind,  and 
catcliing  by  the  tail  of  his  horse  she  held  to  it  as  only 
a  wife  can  hold  to  a  renegade  husband.  At  last  he 
was  ol)ligcd  to  yield  himself  her  j)risoner. 

Then  when  all  else  failed  he  bejran  to  beg.  Dis- 
mounting  he  told  her  all  his  heart,  told  her  tlie  story 
of  his  former  life  and  love  for  Wong  She,  showed  her 
the  letter,  and  begged,  begged  like  a  beaten  jiusband. 
Love  and  duty  struggled  in  Linfa's  bosom,  and  draw- 
ing her  sword  she  prayed  her  lord  to  liberate  liersoul. 
Then,  sorry  unto  deatli,  both  fell  flat  on  their  backs 
and  mourned  their  sad  lot. 

Sit  Ping  Quai  was  first  to  revive.  Starting  up  he 
sprang  upon  his  horse,  promised  faithfully  to  return, 
and  soon  was  out  of  sight.  Then  repented  Linfa; 
with  womanly  repentance  she  cursed  herself  for  per- 
mitting the  recreant's  escape.  As  quickly  as  she 
could  she  followed  him.  Perceiving  the  princess 
inossing  upon  him,  he  dashed  across  a  bridge,  that  is  to 
say,  the  board  resting  on  the  two  tables,  and  throwing 
it  down  after  him,  he  watched  with  much  complacency 
the  princess  tear  her  hair  and  rend  her  garments. 
Then  she  throws  herself  from  the  table,  falls  full  five 
feet,  and  strikes  upon  her  back  with  a  force  sufficient 
to  dislocate  the  joints  and  maim  for  life  any  white 
princess  in  Christendom.  Thus  ends  the  first  part  of 
the  story  of  the  Return  of  Sit  Ping  Quai. 

The  second  part  of  the  drama  details  the  sorrows 
of  Wong  She,  who,  left  alone  to  grapple  with  penury 
and  mourn  a  husband  dead,  became  reduced  to  need- 


i 


376 


MONGOLIANISM  IN  AMERICA. 


%■, 


I  "1 


i  . 


ful  extremities.  The  tidinus  of  her  hero-lmsl)aii(]'s 
capture  and  i)robal)lo  clcatli  strufk  Wong  Slie  fiom 
the  high  estate  iu  which  her  lord  liad  luft  lur,  ar- 
rayed her  ill  widow's  weeds,  and  tuned  her  voico  to 


niourning. 


Secluding  herself,  and  nursing  her  affliction,  slio 
refused  to  see  her  friends,  and  gave  herself  uj)  to  giict'. 
Messengers  wore  dispatched  to  loarn  his  fate,  but  i'aih  d 
in  their  endeavor.  Thus  years  rolled  on ;  s[iriiiv!; 
flowers  bloomed  and  withered,  and  autunni  fruit 
ripened  and  fell,  and  still  Wong  She  mourned  faith- 
fully. 

Saint-like  and  effulgent  grew  her  bcautv  under  lier 
great  grief,  so  much  so  that  the  poor  simple-niiiided 
I)eople  who  saw  her  come  and  go  in  her  daily  search 
for  food  well-nigh  worshipped  her  as  a  being  not  of 
earth.  Many  offers  of  marriage  were  made  her,  hut 
she  treated  them  all  with  scorn ;  yet  so  straitened  in 
her  condition  was  she  that  she  was  obliged  to  diii' 
roots  by  the  roadside  to  support  life. 

While  thus  engaged  one  day,  a  man  of  noble  bear- 
ing, but  dressed  like  a  courier,  accosted  her  as  he  w  as 
passing  by.  Sit  Ping  Quai,  through  his  unwonted 
dress  and  bronzed,  thick-boarded  visage,  was  not  rec- 
ognized by  her  who  loved  him,  though  instantly  he 
knew  Wong  She.  Scarcely  could  he  refrain  from 
clasping  her  to  his  heart  as  she  modestly  drew  back 
from  him,  but  as  she  did  not  know  him,  he  thouglit 
to  practice  a  little  upon  her  before  he  declared  liiiiistlf. 

First  he  represented  himself  as  a  messenger  from 
her  captive  husband,  but  when  she  demanded  his  cre- 
dentials he  could  not  give  them  to  her.  Then  he  de- 
clared himself  a  rich  nobleman,  praised  her  beauty, 
and  offered  her  money,  ail  of  which  advances  she  re- 
jected in  disdain.  Then  he  swore  he  knew  her  lius- 
band,  swore  he  was  false  to  her,  but  when  he  pressed 
her  hand  she  threw  dust  into  his  eyes  and  flying  to 
her  house  shut  herself  in. 

Half  blinded,  Sit  Ping  Quai  followed  and  loudly 


GAMULIXa. 


877 


|)r(K'liiinieJ  himself  througli  tlio  bolted  door.  Faith- 
ful Wonj^  She  thought  this  another  subteifuge  and 
would  not  let  him  in.  He  protested,  entreated, 
stormed;  all  was  of  no  avail.  The  insulted  and  en- 
ra'j;id  wife  did  not  believe  him  to  be  her  husband, 
uutil  at  length  he  drew  forth  her  letter  to  him  and 
threw  it  in  at  the  lattice. 

And  now  comes  a  scene  eminently  oriental.  Wong 
She  had  grown  suspicious.  This  man  had  come  to 
lusr  in  the  form  of  a  fiend  incarnate,  in  the  sha[)o  of  a 
libertine  and  a  liar.  This  letter  might  be  another  de- 
ce[)tion,  a  forgery.  But,  hea^eu  be  i)raiscd,  she  had 
the  moans  at  her  command  of  testing  it.  In  lands 
crlostial  letters  are  often  written  on  linen  or  satin.  I 
jiavo  said  AVong  She  was  poor;  cloth  she  had  none 
suital>le  on  which  to  write  to  her  lord.  But  there  was 
the  tine  inner  garment  she  wore,  relic  of  more  opulent 
(lays;  and  in  her  strait  she  cut  from  it  a  j)iece  on 
\\\\u:\\  to  write  to  her  husband.  And  now  is  she  not 
supposed  to  be  within  her  own  chamber?  With  be- 
witching naivete  the  chaste  Wong  She — remember, 
slie  is  a  man — raises  her  skirts,  and  fits  the  returned 
epistle  to  its  former  place.  Heaven  be  praised,  'tis 
tho  vury  samel  This  was  indeed  her  husband.  The 
door  was  opened;  husband  and  wife  are  reconciled, 
and  tlic  entertainment  ends. 

Evidently  the  Chinese  dramatist  throws  himself 
upon  the  purc-mindedness  of  the  audience,  for  ho 
scruples  at  nothing  that  nature  does  not  scruple  at, 
and  the  birth  of  a  child,  and  like  scenes,  are  of 
common  occurrence. 

More  attractive  than  the  drama,  and  more  absorb- 
in;^  than  any  other  vice,  to  the  Chinese,  is  gambling, 
in  which  probably  not  one  of  them  fails  to  indulge  to 
some  extent.  Thousands  economize  and  beu^rudyje 
tlicmsclves  even  necessaries,  in  order  to  save  where- 
witli  to  pander  to  a  passion  which  appears  so  opposed 
to  their  usually  prudent  habits.  They  number  proba- 
bly more  professional  gamblers  than  any  other  nation, 


878 


MOXOOLIAXISM  IN  AMERICA. 


I  ' 


and  despite  the  raids  upon  them  in  tliis  country  their 
dens  riourish  in  larj;e  nund)ers. 

In  early  days  wliito  folk  were  freely  admitted,  hut 
as  the  gap  widened  between  the  races,  Caucusiaus 
came  to  be  excluded  as  unruly  and  not  to  be  trusted. 
Under  the  allunng  motto  of  Kiches  and  I'lenty,  or 
tlie  Winning  Hall,  hung  a  signboard  that  the  ^aiiio 
was  rumiing  day  and  night.  Within  were  fuiilm- 
attractions  in  the  shape  of  half  a  dozen  malo  aul 
female  musicians,  who  aided  a  richly  dressed  singer  in 
creating  celestial  symphony.  Cigarettes  were  fnely 
supplied,  and  a  huge  tea  kettle,  with  tiny  cups  by  its 
side,  stood  pr(;pared  to  minister  to  the  refreshment  et" 
victims,  many  of  whom  were  the  dupes  of  oracular 
utterances  of  idols  and  fortune-tellers  pretending  to 
reveal  a  lucky  combination. 

The  former  conunodious  hells  with  several  tahlis, 
brilliant  lights,  and  gaudy  decorations,  declined  undr 
the  pressure  of  police  and  hoodlums  into  dingy  gai  rets, 
hazy  with  smoke.  Access  was  had,  by  Chinese  only, 
by  means  of  a  long  passage,  with  perhaps  a  ricki  ty 
stairway  and  a  second  passage  after  that.  At  the 
entrance,  on  the  street,  stood  a  dreamy-looking  yrt 
lynx-eyed  sentinel,  who  on  the  least  suspicion  ef 
danger  pulled  a  hidden  ord  to  warn  the  inniatt  s. 
In  a  twinkling  one  or  more  heavy  plank  doors  widi 
sturdy  bars  closed  before  the  intruder,  and  ere  llie 
police  could  force  their  way  to  the  den,  the  occu])ants 
had  disappeared  through  openings  in  the  floor  and 
wall.  They  had  little  to  fear,  however,  for  tlio 
weekly  fees  given  to  the  police  made  it  to  their  inter- 
est to  shield  them,  and  raids  were  made  only  on  ik- 
linqucnts  for  the  sake  of  appearance,  since  not  Ameri- 
cans only,  but  the  six  companies  repeatedly  urged  tlie 
restriction  of  a  vice  which  creates  so  much  niis(  ly, 
idleness,  and  crime.  Beside  the  weekly  fee  of  five 
dollars  to  the  special  police  of  the  quarter  for  inmiu- 
nity  and  guard,  the  gambling  and  lottery  estahlisli- 
ments  paid  a  large  tax  to  one  who  raised  himself  to 


A  f  ELESTIAL  HELL. 


379 


tlid  superlntcnclcnoy  of  their  guild,  and  professed  to 
jirotcct  them  against  raids  by  means  of  bribery,  by 
(lts[);it('hing  informers,  and  by  engaging  counsel. 
}[(•  was  said  to  receive  $3000  a  month,  and  to  ac- 
count for  less  than  half  of  it,  the  remainder  going  to 
swill  the  largo  fortune  which  became  his  within  a 
few  yi'ars. 

Xiarly  all  the  dens  were  devoted  to  the  favorite 
gaiiio  of  tan,  or  fan-tan^  meaning  "funds  spread  out." 
There  was  rarely  more  than  one  table  in  the  room, 
wliich  was  illuminated   by  a  tong  toy,  a  candlestick 
sujiporting  a  bowl  with  oil,  on  the  rim  of  which  was 
a  scries  of  wicks.     A  wire  frame  was  attached,  li  :ir- 
iii;j;  a  paper  shade,  four  inches  in  width.     At  the  hf-ad 
of  the  table  sat  the  banker  and  croupier,  wit?'  a  heap 
of  l)uttons  before  them,  or  more  usually  brc>M:^e  coun- 
ters, known  !is  dims,  or  cash,  behig  coins  of  about  1  i.e 
size   of   a   cent,  but  lighter,  and  only  one  t<  ilh  in 
valu  .     A  square  hole  in  the  centre,  surroundetl  by 
Chinese  characters,  served  for  stringing  them  together 
ill  l)unches  of  100  to  1000,  for  the  convenience  of 
ti'ixlo  in  China.     From  the  heap  of  cash  the  croupier 
Separated  a  part  at  random,  and  covered  them  with  a 
bowl,  whereupon  the  gamblers  began  to  bet  against 
tlic  l)ank  by  placing  their   money  on  a  square  mat 
with  marks  and  numbers  on  the  centre  of  the  table. 
Tlio  croupier  then  lifted  the  cup  and  counted  the  cash 
deliltorately,  raking  them  in  fours  to  one  side  with  a 
stl(  k  slightly  curved  at  the  end.     On  the  last  four 
counters,  or  the  fraction  thereof,  depended  the  issue. 
Tlio  majority  of  the  gamblers  bet  on  their  turning  out 
odd  or  even,  while  the  others  wasfer  with   smaller 
rliancc  on  the  final  number  l>cing  one,  two,  three,  or 
four,  wliereby  they  made  larger  winnings  if  successful. 
The  game  seemed  fair,  yet  the  chances  were  greatly 
in  favor  of  the  banks,  since  they  were  not  only  able 
to  pay  heavy  bribes  to  police  and  highbinders,  but 
orcw  rich.     It  is  hinted  that  in  Ciinese  gambling 
when  the  bets  are  heavy  on  one  side,  the  croupier  is 


;. !  ji 


3S0 


MONGOLIAXISM   IN  AMERICA. 


able  to  make  she  counters  odd  or  even  as  lie  ))leases 
by  dropping  one  from  his  sleeve,  or  by  other  sleight 
of  hand.  The  fear  t)f  raids  gave  rise  to  a  more  iiino- 
cent  game,  known  as  side,  wherein  four  or  five  dice 
were  thrown  in  turn  by  diti'erent  i)layers.  They  bet 
on  the  larger  result  of  certain  throws,  and  settled 
tlieir  losses  chieHy  with  drafts  on  Chinese  banlurs 
representing  certain  amounts. 

Dominoes  were  in  great  fiivor,  each  player  taking 
six  from  the  wll-mixed  heap,  after  determining  the 
turn  of  playing  by  dice-throws.  The  first  choice 
placed  the  first  domino,  and  then  followed  the  usual 
matcliing  of  pieces.  Cards  were  narrow  strips  of 
pasteboard  about  three  inches  long  by  three  quarters 
of  an  inch  wide,  marked  with  circles  antl  peculiar 
hieroglyphics,  and  were  not  so  easy  to  handle  as  ours. 
Cash  or  counters  were  regarded  as  indispensable  to 
make  the  game  interesting. 

Lotteries  were  numerous,  and  conducted  on  diiler- 
ent  plans,  with  drawings  as  often  as  twice  a  day. 
Agents  for  the  sale  of  tickets  were  to  be  found  at 
almost  evtjry  Chinese  cigar-store  and  laundry. 

It  nmst  not  be  supposed  that  the  Chinese  in  general 
have  been  ready  to  a[)peal  to  our  courts.  Tlieir  eea- 
servative  spirit,  the  antagonism  of  races,  theij-  nmi- 
ac((uaintance  with  our  language,  and  the  strikiiii^ 
ditt'erence  between  our  liberal  institutions  and  tluii' 
autocratic  system,  have  held  them  back.  Nor  have 
they  felt  inspired  with  the  necessary  confidence  iu 
our  tribunals,  on  finding  that  their  right  to  testify 
against  white  ])er8ecutors  was  restricted,  and  on  ob- 
serving that  law-makers  united  with  law-dispeiis(  rs 
to  falsify,  distort,  and  evade  the  ends  of  justice. 
Their  only  reiiu'dy  was  to  ]>rotect  themselves,  and  iu 
this  they  merely  followeil  the  example  set  them  by 
our  own  society,  firsj  by  miners,  and  then  by  the 
connnittei'S  of  vigilance. 

The  Chinese  companies  and  guilds  combine  not  only 


■ii 


TRIBUNALS  OF  JUSTICE. 


381 


the  bonevolcnt,  social,  ami  political  phases  of  our  own 
nuiiierous  societies  and  tratlcs-union,  but  also  to  some 
(.xtvnt  the  military  character  of  our  guards,  and  the 
judicial  })ower  of  our  pcipular  tribunals.  Their  rules 
piiscribe  for  the  settlement  of  disputes,  the  holding 
ot'  courts,  and  the  arrest  of  oflcnders,  the  levy  of  as- 
stssinents  to  provide  for  rewards  to  captors,  for  law- 
ycis'  fees,  and  for  bribes,  the  lending  of  wea])ons  to 
responsible  members,  and  so  on.  They  claim,  of 
course,  that  the  system  indicated  is  merely  a  persua- 
sive arbitration,  and  that  the  parties  whose  case  is 
brouglit  before  the  company  may  appeal  to  the  Amer- 
ican courts,  to  which  heavy  offenders  are  handed  over, 
hut  the  evidence  is  strongly  against  this  plea.  It  is 
rare  for  them  to  bring  a  case  before  our  courts  unless 
tlie  })olice  have  gained  notice  of  the  aft'air.  We  also 
learn  that  they  have  secret  tribunals  and  inquisitions 
wliicli  ovei'awe  their  whole  connnuiiitv,  and  which  are 
comiiosed  of  the  leading  members  of  guilds  and  com- 
panies, men  who  control  coolies  and  manage  the  asso- 
ciations with  an  iron  hand. 

It  was  not  unusual  to  find  posted  on  some  street 
corner,  in  the  Chinese  quarter,  a  notice  on  red  ])aper, 
suliscribed  by  a  firm,  ottering  a  reward,  generally  of 
8.>i>()  or  $(500,  for  the  murder  of  a  designated  person. 
Such  notices  were  produced  before  the  congressional 
coiuniittee  in  1870,  and  witnesses  testified  that,  in  case 
the  assassin  was  arrested  by  Auiorican  authorities,  it 
was  understood  he  should  be  provided  with  good 
counsel;  if  seiitenced  to  ]>rison,  an  extra  recomju'nse 
woultl  be  paid,  and  if  doomed  to  death,  tlie  reward 
wouhl  be  paid  to  his  relativ(>s.  These  inducements 
weic  strong  enough  to  prevail  on  any  nundxT  of  men 
to  undertake  the  task,  and  the  fate  of  the  objcctiona- 
lile  person  was  regarded  as  sraletl.  It  was  still  more 
connnon  for  associations  to  issue  death-warrants  to 
tlieir  own  members,  or  to  call  directly  upon  assassii\s 
and  ai-range  the  deed.  Although  Chinamen  as  a  rule 
confine  (juarrels  to  angry  words  and  gesticulations, 


HUMUll^MMMM 


882 


MONGOLIANISM  IN  AMERICA. 


jftiii  :•;, 


;^'i!''v. 


\w. 


yet  tliey  have  an  extreme  disregard  for  life  when  bent 
on  a  pur[>ose. 

The  men  usually  charged  to  carry  out  the  decrees 
of  the  secret  tribunals  were  known  as  Highbiiukis, 
who  form  several  associations  in  different  parts  of  tlie 
country,  of  varying  strength,  but  all  subject  to  the 
rules  of  the  guild.  They  were  also  called  Hatoliet- 
men  from  their  most  common  weapon,  a  six  inch 
hatchet  with  a  short  notched  handle.  Many  of  them 
were  engaged  at  honest  work,  but  ever  ready  to  obey 
the  call  of  their  leaders,  who  protected  the  interests  of 
women-venders,  attended  to  the  collection  of  debts,  tlic 
levy  of  blackmail,  robbery,  pillage,  and  nmrder.  Their 
weapons  were  pistols,  hatchets,  and  daggers,  the  hmo-, 
keen  blade  of  the  latter  beiuLj  sheathed  in  a  laver  of 
cloth,  by  which  the  tell-tale  blood  might  be  at  once 
removed.  The  name  of  the  chief  company  was  Hip 
Ye  Tong,  or  Temple  of  United  Justice,  numlKring 
some  300  desporadoes,  whose  chief  revenue  was  de- 
rived from  a  .^40  fee  from  every  prostitute,  besides 
the  regular  tax  and  extraordinary  assessments  wliere- 
with  to  bribe  Christians,  fee  lawyers,  spirit  away  wit- 
nesses, and  check  interference  generally. 

Little  attempt  was  made  to  suppress  vice  in  China- 
town, for  that  would  have  required  an  army  of  ])olice. 
As  it  was,  botli  the  Chinese  and  the  police  engaged 
in  the  quarter  submitted  to  circumstances,  and  the 
latter  acce})ted  not  only  a  regular  pay  from  all  classes, 
but  found  it  profitable,  as  well  as  safer,  to  receive 
bribes  from  highbinders  and  others  in  return  for  non- 
interference. Occasionally  the  American  courts  w  ere 
employed  to  assist  at  wreaking  vengeance  on  obnox- 
ious Chinamen,  surrendered  on  some  trum|)('(l-up 
charge,  and  the  crime  fastened  on  them  by  means  of 
hireil  witnesses. 

The  manner  of  administering  the  oath  to  Chinese 
witnesses  in  American  courts  was  to  cut  off  the  head 
of  a  fowl,  and  as  the  blood  dripped  the  witness  wonld 
swear  to  speak  the  truth,  invoking  upon  himself  a  fate 


ADMINISTERING  THE  OATH. 


3S3 


like  tl)at  of  the  bird  in  case  lie  spoke  falsely.  The 
fowls  thus  consecrated  to  heaven  could  not  l)e  eaten 
l»y  Cliinanien,  but  were  given  to  less  scrupulous  white 
persons.  A  saucer  was  sometimes  broken,  or  salt  scat- 
tiTt'd  on  the  ground,  with  a  similar  invocation;  or  all 
the  three  rites  combined  wore  em[»loyed.  Finding 
tliat  even  the  triple  oath  was  disrgarded,  the  Confu- 
cius formula,  so  called,  was  tried  in  1861.  A  slip  of 
yollow  paper  with  the  oath  inscribed  in  Chinese  char- 
acters, and  signed  by  the  witness,  was  set  on  fire. 
Taking  the  slip  in  his  left  hand  to  waft  the  si)irit  of 
the  oath  to  the  gods,  the  witness  raised  his  right  arm 
and  repeated  the  oath,  calling  on  heaven  to  crush  him 
ill  case  ho  failed  to  speak  the  truth,  and  declaring 
that  in  testimony  of  the  promise  made  he  offered  the 
hui'uiiig  pai)er  for  the  perusal  of  the  im[)erial  heaven. 
A  criminal  was  not  uiifiequiuitly  personated  by  an 
innocent  person  for  a  pecuniary  considerati»)n.  Wit- 
nesses were  readily  obtained  to  testify  as  desired.  The 
I'tstraint  and  seclusion  of  the  prison  offered  little  ter- 
lor  to  him  wlio  had  been  used  to  the  confinement  of  a 
ci'owded  workroom  by  day,  and  to  the  narrow  space 
(if  a  bunk  at  night;  nor  could  its  regime  ])rove  very 
objectionable  to  the  hard-worked  coolie  who  subsisted 
till  a  cup  of  tea  and  a  bowl  of  rice.  The  proxy  artifice 
was  onco  exposed  in  the  case  of  a  prisoner  who  had 
been  sentenced  to  a  tcnn  of  tliree  years,  and  served 
two.  Owing  to  good  behavior  he  gained  promotion 
ill  the  prison  service,  whereby  he  learned  the  art  of 
rooking,  received  good  clothes,  and  eiiioved  comforts 
which  ho  would  not  otherwise  have  ex])ected.  On 
his  release  he  found  himself  possessed  of  a  fair  knowl- 
edge of  English,  and  a  good  occupation,  besides  a  sum 
I'f  money  paid  him  by  the  real  culprit. 

X( )t withstand! iig  the  foul  atmosphenM )fthei r  quarter, 
no  epidemics  can  be  traced  to  them.  The  death  i-ate 
there  is  sniallerthan  in  any  other  jiart  of  thecity;  but  they 
have  few  children,  which  weakens  the  comparison.    That 


ili    '^    : 


'III 


tij 

Ifi 


I  i  a 


384 


MONOOLIANrSM  IN  AMERICA. 


the  small-pox  has  been  spread  by  their  infected  iniinl- 
grants  may  be  true  ;  but  America  suffered  more  from 
this  disease  before  the  arrival  of  Chinese,  as  shown 
by  the  records  of  the  decimation  among  our  Indians 
on  tliis  coast  and  elsewhere.  A  physician,  wIkj  lias 
resided  a  lonoj  time  in  China,  declares  that  inocula- 
tion,  which  is  a  surer  prophylactic  than  vaccinaticn, 
is  almost  universally  practised  there;  others  (jualify 
this  statement  by  asserting  that  the  inoculation  is 
faulty  and  has  often  spread  the  very  disease  it  is  in- 
tended to  check.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the  steamers 
from  China  liave  frequently  brought  infected  jiasscn- 
gers,  and  tliat  hidden  sufferers  have  been  uneaitlied 
intlioChiiiese  (]uarters.  The  prevalence  of  the  sciirgc 
is  shown  l)y  the  large  number  of  pock-marked  Cliina- 
men.  It  was  testified  before  the  congressional  com- 
mittee in  1870  that  of  800  passengers  brought  I)y  a 
Cliina  steamer  a  few  years  before,  740  were  found  liy 
the  examining  physicians  to  have  had  the  disease  at 
some  time,  chiefly  in  a  mild  form. 

A  scourge  much  more  feared,  owing  to  its  insidious 
ap])rr^ach  and  effect  on  future  generations,  was  syj)liilis, 
which  existed  very  generally  amongst  Clunese  females, 
who  witli  tlieir  cheap  allurements  attracted  silly  hoys 
and  sowed  in  tlieir  system  the  germ  of  this  malignant 
disorder,  which  may  overwhelm  a  whole  race.  A 
prominent  physician  testified  that  the  large  majority 
of  our  youth  afflicted  with  the  taints,  rect'ived  it 
from  these  women,  and  many  is  the  life  whi(  h  lias 
been  ruined  thereby. 

A  third  disease  prevalent  among  them  was  lei>rosy. 
There  are  several  tlegrces  of  the  malady,  all  incuiahle 
and  some  very  contagious,  particularly  if  the  \iins 
happens  to  touch  a  delicate  or  sore  part  of  the  hody. 
S(jme  persons  have  been  infected  for  years,  witliont 
being  aware  of  it,  till  the  taint  was  found  in  tlieir 
offspring.  The  police  could  readily  point  out  any 
number  of  lepers  in  the  Chinese  quarter  of  ISmi 
Francisco,  in  various  stages  of  the  disease,  from  tliJ 


DISEASES  AND  llEMEDIES. 


385 


simpli'  white  or  red  si)ots,  and  swollen   flesh,  to  the 
1)1  iiL!    luuqjs,  dark    ulcers,  and   putrified   sores  eating 
awiiv  the  flesh  and  leaving  sickening  gaps.     Few  per- 
S(»iis  can  endure  the  slitick  to  slight  and  feelinu's,  or 
venture  to  come  hi  contact  with  these  unfortunates. 
Ill  an  alley  on  Pacific  street  were  two  cellars  wherein 
Irui  IS  and  incurables  contrre<2;ated,  were  left  to  strui^ijle 
for  lift'  as  best  they  might,  and  die  the  death   of  a 
dn^-.     Contributions  from  visitors  formed  their  chief 
imaiis   of    subsistence.     There   were   a    few    in    the 
Aiiuriean    pest-house,   eight    of    thirty-six    Chinese 
imnates  in  April,  1876,  being  lepers,  the  rest  suffering 
chieHy  from  syphilis.     Tlie  less  afflicted  were  scattered 
througli  the  quarter,  and  findhig  no  commiseration 
anil  »ng  tlieircountrymen,  they  were  driven  to  seek  Chris- 
tian charity,  either  by  begging  or  by  peddling  tlieir 
tainted  cigars  and  matches  under  the  cover  of  night. 
In  China  they  are  dreaded  as  much  as  here,  but  are 
iK'iniitted  to  wander  around  in  bands  to  scatter  terror 
and  extort  tribute.     Wherever  Chinamen  have  innni- 
;4iate(l  leprosy  appears  to  have  developed.     On  the 
Sandwich  Islands  the  scourge  carried  ott'  larixe  num- 
hers.     The  white  race  cannot  be  regarded  as  exempt 
from  the  contagion,  for  English  sailors  liave  several 
times  been  stricken,  and  it  has  prevailed  in  Lombardy. 
In  view  of  our  intimate  relation  with  the  race  which 
washes  our  clothes,  manufactures  our  cigars,  and  cooks 
our  food,  a  certain  degree  of  apprehension  is  justiflable. 
In  case  of  a  slight  indisposition  the  Chinaman  is 
content  to  seek  that  panacea  for  physical  and  mental 
ills,  the  opium  pipe;  but  if  the  sym}ttoms  assume  the 
hast  complication  he  hurries  to  seek   more  reliable 
nostru!  1.. ,  and  to  judge  by  the  quantity  he  consumes, 
he  is  evidently  not  in   favor  of  homoeo])athic  doses, 
even  if  that  sj'stem  is  uidield  in  other  respects.      The 
fust  recourse  is  probably  to  Wah  To,  God  of  Health, 
whom  he  approaches  with  offerings  and  propitiatory 
rites,  asking  him  to  designate  a  remedy  or  a  doctor. 
The  framer  of  the  oracle  has  not  been  a  whit  less 

Essays  AND  MiscKLi.ANY     25 


>>! 


mmk 


386 


MONGOLIANISM  IN  AMERICA. 


r'^ 


zealous  of  the  influence  of  his  god  than  Pythia  of 
the  Olympian  deity,  and  gives  only  the  vaguest  of 
answers,  unless  the  bribes  of  some  particular  niciiilier 
of  the  Esculapian  fraternity  have  overcome  the  scrujiles 
of  the  priest,  and  make  him  designate  with  greater 
exactness  who  the  healer  is  in  whom  the  gods  del i^l it. 
When  gods  and  god-keepers  must  have  money  for 
their  favors,  we  should  have  more  charity  for  men. 
The  more  prudent  sufferer  applies  directly  to  one  of 
the  280  works  containing  the  medical  lore  of  the 
celestial  kingdom,  with  full  description  of  herbs  and 
drugs,  their  property  and  mode  of  application,  tlic 
regime  to  be  observed  by  patients,  tjie  influciiec  of 
natural  and  supernatural  causes  on  different  portions 
of  the  body,  and  how  to  court  or  avoid  them,  tlic 
internal  structure  of  the  body,  and  other  useful 
matters. 

Despite  the  deep  study  given  to  medical  art,  its  con- 
dition is  lamentably  backward  ;  and  although  theories 
on  diseases  and  remedies  are  numerous  and  elaborate, 
they  are  founded  on  a  wrong  basis,  and  their  praetico 
is  pampered  by  the  most  absurd  superstitl  n.  The 
study  of  physiology  and  the  art  of  dissecting  are  not 
in  vogue,  and  glands,  nerves,  ducts,  the  organs,  the 
circulation  of  the  blood,  and  other  features,  arc  tliere- 
fore  misunderstood  or  entirely  unknown.  It  is  taui^lit 
that  different  parts  of  the  body  require  distinct  treat- 
ment, and  that  the  drugs  destined  for  them  are  con- 
ducted there  with  the  aid  of  particular  medicines,  by 
means  of  certain  channels  or  cords.  Tht;  condition 
of  the  body  is  determined  by  the  state  of  the  several 
pulses,  making,  with  their  several  forms  of  develop- 
ments, twelve  in  all,  which,  again,  are  classed  under 
several  heads.  Some  medicines  are  supposed  to  flrive 
out  diseases,  others  to  coax  them  away;  and  if  one 
kind  fails  the  other  must  be  tried,  according  to  the 
indications  of  various  natural  and  supernatural  influ- 
ences, behind  which  the  doctor  finds  convenient  refuii^c 
in  a  dilemma.     Similia  similibus  curantur  is  a  favorite 


CURATIVE  CUSTOMS. 


387 


idtii;  again,  members  and  organs  from  a  sound  indi- 
vidual and  animal,  or  matter  relating  thereto,  are  pre- 
scribed for  those  who  are  weak  therein.  Among  the 
curious  remedies  obtained  from  the  human  bodv^  are, 
the  placentae,  ashes  of  nails  pared  from  a  [)regna!it 
woman,  woman's  milk,  plasters  of  hair  cut  fine,  a  liair 
from  a  mustache,  a  bone  from  the  forehead,  and  other 
matter  taken  from  felons  or  young  children,  whose 
remains  are  not  sacredly  guarded  I'ke  those  of  re- 
sprctable  adults.  From  animals  are  taken  such  arti- 
cit'S  as  the  hoof  of  a  white  horse,  bull's  excrement, 
tlir  tip  of  deer  horns,  the  hair  of  a  cow's  tail,  dragon's 
l)oiu.'S.  The  bulk  of  the  medicines  are  obtained  from 
plants,  however,  many  of  them  unknown  to  us.  The 
7 "/'/'(  izai  root,  which  runs  deep  into  the  earth,  is 
fn  ijuently  administered  to  guide  to  the  lower  extrem- 
itirs  such  medicines  as  are  destined  to  act  there. 

A  famous  prescription  invented  by  a  distinguished 
individual  reads  as  follows :  Frankincense  and  myrrh, 
one  mace  (one  tenth  of  an  ounce)  each ;  one  dog's  gall 
dried  in  the  sun;  one  carp's  gall  dried  in  tlie  shade; 
sal  ammonia,  two  mace;  striped  frog's  spittle,  two 
niaee;  dog's  bezoar,  one  mace;  nmsk,  one  and  a  half 
niaco;  white  cloves,  forty-nhie  berries;  seven  ccnti- 
p((les  dried  and  pulverized;  beeswax,  three  mace; 
black  gold  stone,  one  mace ;  one  gill  of  the  milk  of  a 
Woman  after  the  birth  of  her  first  cliild,  which  must 
be  a  boy;  king  fun  (a  stone),  powdered,  one  mace; 
hung  wong  (also  a  st(mc),  one  mace;  quicksilver, 
roasted  and  powdered  till  made  white,  three  mace ; 
to  be  mixed  and  made  into  pills,  the  size  of  the  green 
bean,  and  administered  in  doses  of  one  pill  for  a  child, 
and  three  to  five  for  an  adult,  in  cases  of  chills  and 
fever,  ulcers  and  swellings,  and  in  violent  attacks  of 
sickness.  The  patient  nmst  be  put  to  bed  and  per- 
spiration induced.  The  sick  man  who  after  all  this 
refuses  to  revive  deserves  to  die. 

Like  all  the  prayers  of  man  to  his  gods,  like  all  the 
appeals  of  man  to  the  supernatural  and  unknowable, 


% 


^ijiMmmmm 


S88 


MONfJOLIANISM   IN   AMERICA. 


t      ! 


the  more  mysterious  the  virtues  of  these  remedies, 
the  more  inexpHcable  tlieir  effect,  the  greater  tlu  (k- 
mand  for  them,  and  not  a  shipment  of  importance 
leaves  San  Francisco  for  the  interior  of  which  tlay 
do  not  form  a  considerable  proportion.  The}-  are 
mostly  prepared  at  one  of  the  dozen  apothecary  shops 
in  the  Chinese  quarter,  where  several  men  are  con- 
stantly employed  to  dry,  peel,  crush,  distill,  anil  mix 
from  500  to  1000  varieties  of  medicinal  substuiu  ts, 
according  to  the  prescriptions  of  the  books,  but  Avitli- 
out  an  attempt  to  form  anything  like  a  scientific  (oni- 
pound  or  extract,  for  chemistry  is  an  unexplored  fiiM 
to  the  Chinese.  Apothecaries  may  be  found  at  any 
large  settlement  under  the  suggestive  names  of  Tlic 
Hall  of  the  Approved  Medicines  of  every  Land. 
Great  Life  Hall,  or  Hall  of  the  Hill  with  Two  Peaks. 
referring  to  a  famous  doctor  of  a  past  age.  Tluiv  is 
humbug  enough  among  our  own  medicine  men,  but 
those  of  the  Asiatics  arc,  if  anything,  worse. 

The  Chinese  have  an  nifinite  subdivision  of  branches 
in  all  trades,  including  the  medical  profession,  and 
more  reliance  is  placed  in  those  who  modestly  pro- 
claim themselves  as  specialists.  Some  among  tluni 
offer  to  cure  certain  diseases  for  a  fixed  sum,  huludiiit,' 
the  cost  of  medicines.  The  intricacy  of  the  biam  h 
requires  deep  study,  and  this  in  itself  uidicatcs  sutti- 
cient  learning  to  assure  the  practitioner  of  an  honored 
position  among  his  countrymen.  Political  as  wi  11  as 
guild  regulations  have  in  China  aided  to  check  re- 
searches tending  to  advance  their  art,  and  the  profes- 
sion is  restricted  to  antiquated  methods,  with  liea\ y 
penalties  for  the  bad  results  that  may  follow  innova- 
tions. Experience  has,  of  course,  led  them  to  discover 
many  efficient  methods,  and  they  are  quite  expeit  in 
the  treatment  of  simple  ailments,  but  superstition 
enters  largely  into  all  operations,  even  of  res})e(tal)le 
physicians.  The  condition  of  the  patient  is  determined 
by  feeling  the  pulses  for  the  different  parts  of  the 
body,  under  varying  circumstances,  a  task  which  re- 


SUPERSTITION  IN  MEDICINE. 


389 


(|uiros  some  time,  despite  the  wonderful  accuracy  and 
Hiuniess  of  touch  of  the  experienced  dc^ctor.  The  or- 
«rans  are  also  examined,  and  aided  by  the  statement 
of  the  patient,  tlie  diagnosis  is  formed  and  tlie  remedy 
pii'scribed  with  due  regard  for  the  state  of  tlie 
wc  iither,  tlie  moon,  planets,  and  various  other  subtle 
iiiid  occult  influences.  (Jods  good  and  evil  nmst  be 
continually  invoked  and  spirits  exorcised  to  comfort  tlie 
sulK-rer.  Wliile  the  examination  progresses  the  doctor 
(Iocs  not  fail  to  impress  the  patient  witli  his  profound 
knowledge  of  the  disease  and  its  treatment  by  recitins 
the  wonderful  cures  effected  by  him,  as  many  of  our 
own  doct(jrs  do. 

Counter-irritants,  such  as  rubbing,  pinching,  pricking, 
and  applying  caustics  are  much  used,  particularly  by 
l);irl)ers ;  and  the  victim  submits  with  unflinching 
stolidity  to  the  most  severe  tortures.  Surgery  is  not 
understood,  for  Chinese  have  a  decided  objection  to 
cutting  or  amputating ;  hence  they  have  few  of  our 
numerous  surgical  instruments,  and  none  of  the  ap- 
imiiitus  for  the  cure  of  deformities  and  khidred  treat- 
ments. In  cases  of  broken  limbs,  simi)le  bandages 
and  j)oultices  are  applied.  Of  most  operations  they 
have  peculiar  ideas.  For  a  female  suicide  from  an 
overdose  of  oi)ium  a  live  kid  was  procured,  into  whose 
throat  an  incision  was  made,  and  the  warm  blood 
caught  in  a  syringe  and  thrust  down  the  throat  of  the 
(load.  She  did  not,  like  Lazarus,  return  to  life. 
( )bstetrics  is  left  to  women,  whose  chief  fitness  lies  in 
tact  and  experience. 

Liberal  in  the  use  of  drugs,  the  Chinaman  is  also 
fi'eo  in  the  employment  of  doctors  ;  and  since  diflercuit 
jKirts  of  the  body  require  difl'erent  treatment,  he  will 
often  seek  several  doctors  to  prescribe  in  their  respcc- 
ti\  e  departments ;  and  if  the  desired  eflect  is  not  ob- 
tained, he  is  quite  ready  to  bestow  his  confidence  on 
otluT  healers  who  offer  to  cure  all  diseases,  even  those 
unheard  of,  and  whose  sole  claims  to  the  profession 
are  the  possession  of  a  few  medical  books  and  a  ready 


I  7'  n     i< 


890 


MONOOLIANISM  IN  AMERICA. 


in     'i\ 


wit  for  mummery,  so  soothing  to  the  feelings  of  tlio 
poor.  At  one  time  tliere  was  quite  a  mania  jjiiKmcr 
white  women  to  test  the  skill  of  the  mystic  oriental. 
Clairvoyants  prescribe  in  accordance  with  the  nvt  la- 
tions  they  receive  in  their  visions.  Another  class  of 
men  frequently  consulted  is  students  whose  enthu- 
siasm has  led  them  to  dip  into  Esculapian  lore,  and 
being  more  disinterested  than  prefessionals,  they  en- 
joy the  confidence  of  the  prudent. 

The  regulations  of  the  Chinese  companies  provide 
for  the  care  of  sick  mend)ers  ;  the  first  regular  hos- 
pital established  in  San  Francisco  was  the  Chinese 
asylum  on  Union  street,  for  which  the  city  granted  a 
lot.  Two  or  three  oilier  hospitals  were  supportctl  hy 
the  companies,  whose  sick  members  were  there  made 
to  work  as  long  as  they  could  move  a  limb.  Tliese 
establishments  were  situated  in  back-rooms  and  cellars 
without  furniture  save  a  few  thin  mats,  and  where  no 
regard  was  paid  to  cleanliness  and  comfort,  or  even 
to  tlie  sustenance  of  the  helpless  and  often  famishinL;' 
patients.  The  charge  at  those  places  was  extroniely 
moderate,  and  even  among  those  belonging  to  the  veiy 
lowest  order,  who  were  friendless  and  entirely  desti- 
tute, there  was  always  room  for  the  sick  and  dyiiiLi,-  in 
the  out-of-the-way  corners  of  Little  China,  where  were 
always  found  some  neglected  by  all,  lingering  in  filth 
and  misery.  This  was  particularly  the  fate  of  the 
women,  who  were  less  esteemed  than  men,  and  less 
apt  to  have  relatives  here  to  care  for  them.  It  would 
seem  a  good  business  for  the  boastful  doctors,  buyinLi; 
sick  women  to  cure  and  sell,  but  for  the  rule  that  if 
they  should  prove  obstinate,  all  flesh  having  some- 
time to  die,  the  funeral  expenses  must  be  borne  by 
the  person  at  whose  house  the  death  takes  place. 
And  if  the  body  be  not  properly  cared  for  by  the  un- 
lucky landlord,  the  spirit  returns  to  haunt  the  i)la(  e. 
Another  sensible  view  taken  was  in  their  fatalism. 
Of  course  every  one  knows  what  is  to  be  will  he; 
and  what  the  Chinaman  knows  he  usually  acts  upon. 


rRODir.ALITY  IN  DEATH. 


S91 


Si)  wlien  once  iu  tho  thin  waters  of  a  niountaiti  lake, 
some  fisheruiaii  iiiiglit  easily  have  saved  a  cliowniiio- 
(oimade,  and  did  u<jt,  their  maxim  was  proved  tor- 
rcct,  for  thus  the  fates  had  ordained. 

The  Chinese  may  be  economical  in  thisi  life,  hut 
they  arc  liberal  enough  in  regard  to  the  life  to  come. 
And  indeed  it  costs  but  little  more  to  have  many  gods 
and  several  souls,  than  one  of  each.  After  death  the 
body  is  laid  on  the  floor  to  be  more  under  the  protec- 
tive influence  of  earth,  the  universal  mother ;  and 
while  in  this  position  the  three  spiritual  and  seven 
jiiiiiiial  souls  are  liberated,  one  of  the  spiritual  souls 
passing  at  once  to  the  eternal  judge,  the  second  into 
the  ancestral  tablet,  and  the  third  remaining  to  hover 
round  the  tomb.  The  corpse  is  washed,  dressed  in  its 
best  clothes,  or  in  rich  new  garments,  paper  clothing 
biiiig  used  by  the  poor,  and  placed  in  the  coffin,  to- 
ofther  with  some  rice,  fruit,  and  tea  by  its  side,  and  a 
hmnic  houcJic  between  the  lips,  whereupon  it  is  covered 
with  a  pall  of  white  cloth,  the  mourning  color.  Cof- 
fins, or  "longevity  boards,"  are  made  of  the  most  dur- 
al)k'  material,  generally  rosewood  and  at  times  richly 
mounted,  In  China  ^.Aey  often  form  a  favorite  pres- 
ent with  children  and  are  placed  in  the  ancestral  room 
as  an  assurance  to  the  parents  that  their  remains  will 
be  properly  cared  for.  Colored  candles  and  incense- 
sticks  burn  round  the  pall  to  light  the  soul  on  its 
jouiiicy,  and  propitiate  the  inhabitpnts  of  the  spirit 
World  to  accord  the  new-comer  a  friendly  reception. 
A  ( juantity  of  choice  offerings  is  displayed  beside  the 
coffin  on  several  tables,  guarded  by  two  small  figures, 
mall'  and  female,  which  stand  beside  a  miniature 
mountain,  covered  with  trees  that  bear  red  leaves  and 
silvered -paper  fruit.  Huge  platters  support  whole 
carcasses  of  pigs  and  sheep,  grotesquely  ornamented, 
and  Hanked  by  chickens  and  ducks  in  strangely  dis- 
toited  shapes.  Five  kinds  of  the  meat  nmst  be  cot)ked 
and  five  uncooked.  Around  these  stand  rows  of  choice 
dishes  in  great  variety,  with  cups  of  wine  and  tea,  and 


1 

■.H:\', 


f 
ill 


I  :■!! 


892 


MONGOL! ANISM  IN  AMEUICA. 


f  I  ■'        • 


11      J 


pyramids  of  cakos  and  fruit,  artistically  prepared  and 
arrayed,  and  interspersed  with  flowers,  ornaments,  |)a. 
per  toys  of  all  description,  and  make-believe  moniiy  to 
pay  the  way  in  spirit-land. 

While  these  preparations  are  going  on,  a  priest  ia 
yellow  robe  with  black  stripes  chants  the  ritual,  with 
several  assistants  dressed  in  simple  white  surplices, 
tied  at  the  waist,  and  with  white  strips  round  tin  ir 
heads.  There  is  kneeling  and  bowing,  gesticulation 
and  grieving,  accompanied  by  shrill  and  clashini^  niu- 
sic,  and  the  explosion  of  fire-crackers,  to  keep  away 
the  ever-watching  imps  of  evil.  Still  louder  rises  the 
wail  of  paid  women,  and  well-simulated  sobs,  sonu- 
tiines  accompanied  by  the  genuine  article.  Words  of 
lament  over  the  irreparable  loss  sustained  by  surviv- 
ing friends  are  spoken,  and  eulogies  on  the  deceased, 
in  improvised  or  prescribed  form  "Alas!  alas  1  why 
was  it  not  I  that  had  died  rather  than  be  doomed  to  re- 
main in  the  land  of  the  living,  an  inheritor  of  trnuhio 
and  grief,  while  thou  art  removed.  Thou,  so  talented 
and  wise;  thou  shouldst  have  been  spared  to  become 
an  officer  of  the  empire,  even  a  pillar  of  the  royal  pal- 
ace. In  the  parting  our  heart  is  torn;  but  we  liopo 
that  after  death  thy  soul  has  joy  and  peace,  having 
ascended  to  the  heavenly  palace,  there  to  confer  pros- 
perity on  thy  children  and  grand-children."  Wliitc 
men  are  less  selfish  in  this  respect,  being  willing  to 
undergo  the  trials  of  earth  a  little  longer  and  let 
others  die. 

Neighbors  flock  in  to  respect  and  criticize  the  dis- 
play for  the  dead,  to  whom  thoy  refer  as  having  de- 
parted, pas  cd  from  this  world,  ascended  to  the  sky; 
yet  with  a  tliis  respect  for  the  deceased  they  laugh 
and  talk  un  mcernedly  among  the  mourners.  They 
know  tliat  neral  faces,  and  sighs,  and  groans  will 
make  no  difft   ence. 

Soon  the  ■•.  ailing  is  interrupted  by  the  arrival  of  the 
hearse,  carriages,  and  wagons,  and  the  procession  starts 
for  the  cemetery,  attended  by  the  imp-scaring  music. 


FUNERAL  RITE.S.  M 

and  the  scatteriii*;;  along  tlie  road  of  colored  bits  of 
pa[)or  with  aquuro  holes,  representing  money  where- 
with to  huy  the  right  of  way  from  the  spirits.  In  the 
front  carriages  may  be  noticed  the  female  mouners 
in  white  robes  and  hoods.  If  the  deceased  was  an  old 
or  a  prominent  man,  the  pomp  is  proportionately 
greater,  and  one  or  more  young  men  are  engaged  to 
walk  behind  the  hearse,  bare-footed  and  in  coarse, 
dirty,  white  garb,  with  the  head  deeply  bent  over  a 
cane,  and  8U{)ported  by  a  person  on  either  side.  They 
represent  sons  of  the  dead,  and  their  appearance  is 
eiiihli'matic  of  the  sorrow  caused  by  the  bereavement. 
If  uiiibler  acquaintances  bring  up  the  rear  in  wagons, 
several  of  which  are  laden  with  the  offerings.  The 
jirocession  is  received  at  the  cemetery  with  a  volley 
of  crackers,  and  the  bo'^'y  is  placed  before  the  grave, 
surrounded  with  burning  candles,  and  incense-sticks, 
and  [datforms  set  with  the  offerings.  Incisions  are 
made  in  the  meats  for  the  spirits ;  some  rice  is  scattered, 
and  wine  and  tea  poured  out  while  every  one  present 
hews  profoundly  and  goes  through  certain  pious  gyra- 
tions. The  various  toys  consisting  of  tiny  chests  of 
clothing,  furniture,  horses,  servants,  ornaments,  all 
made  of  paper — a  flim.sy  trick  of  celestial  economy, 
wliich  goes  so  far  as  to  pass  forged  checks  on  the  help- 
less spirits — together  with  tobacco,  flowers,  and  cer- 
tain clothing,  are  now  burned  and  transniitted  to 
s^tirit  land  for  the  use  and  service  of  the  departed, 
amid  a  rattling  discharge  of  crackers  to  speed  tlie  part- 
ing soul  of  things.  After  several  prayers  and  acts  of 
devotion,  the  body  is  deposited  in  the  grave,  and  on 
the  mound  is  placed  a  board  with  an  inscription,  to- 
gether with  the  remnants  of  candles  and  incense-sticks. 
]\[ore  tea  and  win^  are  poured  out,  and  rice  scattered 
for  the  benefit  of  other  hoverinf  souls,  whereupon 
tlio  company  return  to  town,  bringing  away  the 
food  of  which  the  spirits  have  inhaled  the  essence, 
to  serve  for  a  riotous  feast.  It  is  even  stated  that 
some   of  the   pigs   and   fowls   probably    find   their 


ir 


iij 


894 


MONGOLIANISM  IN  AMERICA. 


Ill 


way  back  to  the  seller  from  whom  they  had  been 
borrowed. 

Each  of  the  six  Chinese  companies  has  a  special 
section  at  the  cemetery,  with  an  altar  here  and  there 
for  ceremonies.  The  courtesans'  graves  have  a  .'sepa- 
rate altar,  with  a  tablet  before  which  expensive 
otl'eriiig.s  are  at  times  made,  generally  by  kecpeis  of 
brothels,  who  by  these  ministrations  to  the  dead  hulj 
their  influence  over  the  living.  Having  no  desccml- 
ants,  these  women  cannot  hope  for  greater  post  mortdii 
care  in  China  than  here,  and  their  bones  are,  tlieie- 
foi'e,  as  a  rule  left  to  moulder  in  the  foreign  soil. 

The  belief  that  spirits  have  the  same  need  for  food, 
clothes,  shelter,  and  anmsements  as  the  living,  is 
somewhat  akin  to  the  Christian's  idea  of  earning  here 
glory  an  '  happiness  for  heaven  ;  and  as  they  caniidt 
rest  in  peace  in  a  foreign  land,  the  Chinese  are  ex- 
tremely anxious  to  have  their  bones  sent  home,  where 
friends  will  provide  for  their  wants  in  spirit-land, 
either  from  love,  or  from  fear  that  the  neglected  soul 
may  haunt  them.  In  early  days  it  was  not  unusual 
to  send  home  the  whole  body  in  a  leaden  eutliii, 
but  now  it  is  rare  to  send  anything  more  than  the 
bones.  Rather  more  than  half  of  the  number  who 
have  died  on  the  coast  liave  so  far  had  their  remains 
sent  back.  An  account  is  kept  of  the  time  required 
for  the  body  to  decompose.  The  grave  is  then  opened. 
the  bones  collected,  scraped,  di])ped  in  spirits  and 
water,  well  rubbed  with  a  brush,  without  hiinj^ 
touched  by  the  liand,  and  packed  into  as  small  a  hox 
as  will  hold  them.  This  duty  is  performed  by  special 
societies.  In  China  the  site  for  the  grave  nmst  be 
carefully  selected  by  diviners,  who  usually  choose  Idll 
sh)pcs  facing  a  bend  in  a  river,  which  is  suj»po.sed  to 
bring  good  influences  to  the  spot.  All  the  hills  round 
the  cities  are  dotted  with  tombs,  wliich  must  on  no 
account  be  disturbed.  There  are  also  ancestral  («  ni- 
ples,  where  the  tablets  of  the  family  or  clan  areereekd, 
lights  kept  burning,  and  festivals  held  at  certain  in- 


jeen 


AFTER  DEATH. 


395 


tervals.  A  substitute  for  these  may  be  found  at  tlie 
C()m[)any  houses  in  San  Francisco,  where  tlie  names 
of  clccoased  members  are  inscribed  on  an  altar,  illumi- 
nated by  a  constantly  burning  light,  and  provided 
with  a  table  for  offerings.  At  the  home  of  the  de- 
ceased a  tablet  is  also  erected  with  his  name,  and  per- 
liajH  with  his  image,  bearing  a  panegyric  phrase.  If 
tlu.  ta,mily  is  wealthy,  a  niche  or  room  is  devoted  to 
(.l(3a(l  members.  Before  these  tablets  the  descendants 
bend  in  adoration,  keep  the  lamp  burning  to  light  the 
path  of  the  spirits  and  to  honor  them,  and  make  fre- 
quent offerings  of  food  and  toys  Lengthy  eulogies 
an}  suspended  in  the  bereaved  home  for  forty-nine 
da\s  after  death,  wherein  the  spirit  is  implored  to 
leave  his  blessing. 

On  the  fourteenth  day  after  the  funeral,  on  every 
tliirtioth  day  thereafter,  and  on  the  aimiversary  of  the 
death,  prescribed  mourning  ceremc^nics,  with  offerings, 
are  observed.  On  the  fourteenth  day  the  mourners 
repair  with  temple  assistants  to  the  grave,  where  food 
is  presented  and  paper  offerings  are  burned,  attended 
by  the  pretty  conceit  of  liberating  four  song-birds,  to 
speed  the  soul  of  the  offerings  and  cheer  the  spirit 
with  their  warbling.  The  iuoon-eyed  priest  rings  a 
b.'ll,  nmtters  an  incantation  amid  responsive  groans 
from  the  assemblage,  which  thereupon  marches  round 
the  grave,  the  priest  leading  with  his  bell. 

l^irents  are  most  deeply  lamented  and  cared  for, 
ami  honored  by  the  children  with  a  three  years' 
mouraing  in  white  or  sla-te-colored  clothes,  with  collar 
and  wliite  cord  in  the  queue.  Other  members  of  the 
family  receive  much  less  attention,  and  young  women 
and  infants  are  scarcely  accorded  a  thought  after  the 
111' 'igre  funeral  rites  have  been  rendered. 

I'ilial  devotion  is  manifested  by  the  prominence 
j.meii  to  the  Festival  of  the  Tombs,  or  the  Feeding 
of  tlie  Dead,  also  called  Tsing  Ming,  the  Pure  and 
Pu^splendent  Festival,  which  takes  place  usually  in 
tiie  end  of  March,  and  forms,  next  to  New  Year,  the 


I 


■}  i 


m 


I'f 


ii 


m 


896  MONGOLIANISM  IN  AMERICA. 

most  saored  celebration  in  the  Chinese  calendar.  All 
who  can  by  any  possibility  suspend  work  do  so,  and 
abandon  the  abode  of  the  living  for  the  precincts  of 
the  dead,  to  worship  the  ancestral  manes  who  on  tliis 
day  are  released  from  the  world  of  spirits  that  they 
may  mingle  with  their  descendants  on  earth.  In  a 
continuous  throng  they  proceed  to  the  cemeteries 
with  baskets  full  of  delicacies  which  they  share  with 
the  hovering  souls,  giving  them  the  essence  while  re- 
serving for  themselves  the  substance.  The  smoke  of 
burning  incense-sticks  and  tapers,  lighted  from  the 
consecrated  temple  fire,  curls  upward  in  fantastic  fig- 
ures, and  rises  jointly  with  the  prayers  of  the  devout 
and  the  fragrance  from  flower-decked  graves  to  lioiior 
and  appease  both  gods  and  spirits.  A  clod  of  earth 
is  added  to  the  mound,  and  a  paper  affixed  to  roni- 
memorate  the  visit.  A  second  feeding  of  the  (lead 
takes  place  about  August,  at  which  spirits  having  no 
living  kindred  receive  special  attention.  They,  as  well 
as  other  neglected  souls,  are  otherwise  under  tlu^  pro- 
tective care  of  Kwan  Yin,  the  goddess  of  mercy. 
Food  and  presents  are  displayed  at  the  windows  and 
balconies,  or  hung  on  lines  across  the  street,  and  left 
at  tlie  graves,  so  that  the  roaming  phantoms  may 
feast  and  be  merry.  A  procession  adds  lustre  to  the 
festival  with  music,  banners,  and  idols.  Prominent 
among  the  latter  may  be  seen  the  ten-foot-high  image 
of  Kwan  Yin.  bristling  with  armor  from  head  to  foot, 
and  looking  like  anything  else  than  a  goddess  of  mercy ; 
but  the  hungry  spirits  are  apt  to  quarrel  over  the 
feast,  and  to  keep  them  in  check  it  is  necessary  for 
her  to  assume  this  fierce  guise.  When  the  offerings 
are  burned,  the  image  ascends  the  pyre  also,  and  the 
stern  warrior  passes  again  into  the  form  of  tlie  gentle 
spirit  which  superintends  the  distribution  of  the  gifts 
that  are  to  last  the  hungry  souls  till  the  next  festival. 
After  the  lapse  of  from  three  to  seven  years,  a  I'ul)- 
lic  ceremony,  called  the  Universal  Rescue,  is  held  fi»r 
a  week  for  the  benefit  of  all  spirits  not  yet  released 


THE  SPIRIT  WORLD. 


897 


from  earthly  bonds,  and  notice  of  this  is  sent  to  them 
by  burning  n'.cssages  on  yellow  paper.  Altars  and 
rooms  are  purified,  incense  burned,  and  propitiatory 
(ifl'oi'ings  made,  amid  the  chant  of  priests  and  the 
clash  of  music.  On  concluding,  the  priest  Ijurns  paper 
images  of  certain  idols,  the  names  of  interested  spirits, 
and  certain  records. 


The  imperturbable  disposition  of  the  Chinese  admits 
little  or  none  of  the  spiritual  exaltation  or  sectarian 
fanaticism  so  prevalent  among  other  nations.  Their 
religion  is  rather  a  teaching  and  a  formalism  than  a 
faitli  and  divine  bond.  They  have  a  trinity,  but  it  is 
one  of  systems,  moral,  metaphysical;  and  materialistic, 
re[)resented  by  the  doctrines  of  Confucius,  Lao-tze, 
and  Buddha  respectively,  which  exist  commingled  and 
coordinate  without  rivalry.  Although  every  |)crson 
is  allowed  to  give  prcmiinence  to  the  cult  chosen  by 
Lis  inclination,  yel  few  have  adopted  any  one  system 
exclusively,  while  all  combine  in  the  observance  of 
certain  features,  such  as  the  worship  of  heaven  and 
earth,  particularly  at  New  Year,  of  the  kitchen  god, 
whoso  only  temple  is  the  shrine  in  the  household  cor- 
ner, and  especially  of  ancestry,  which  may  in  one 
sense  be  regarded  as  the  basis  of  the  combined  S3S- 
tcms,  since  the  gods  and  genii  are  nearly  all  apothe'o- 
sized  rulers,  heroes,  and  men  who  have  earned  popular 
gratitude  and  esteem. 

Confucius,  or  Kong-fu-tze,  is,  however,  the  control- 
lin^;'  [)()wer  in  Chinadom.  All  its  social  and  political 
institutions  are  founded  on  his  teachings,  which  are 
iiU'iitical  with  the"  main  principles  of  the  leading  reli- 
gions of  the  world;  and  his  simple,  practical  code  of 
ethics  is  the  officially  recognized  guide  of  every  China- 
man, for  Kong  the  Teacher,  as  the  name  signifies, 
taiiglit  and  practiced  a  moral  philosophy  combined 
^vith  a  mystic  cosmogony  which  avoids  all  inquiry 
into  theologic  dogmas,  and  commits  itself  to  no  creed, 
except  in  promoting  ancestral  worship.     Yet  he  be- 


l 


MONGOLIANISM  IN  AMERICA. 


J      I' 


lieved  in  omens  and  advocated  divination,  and  numer- 
ous stories  are  told  of  his  superstitions  and  eccentric 
habits.  No  images  desecrate  liis  temples,  but  a  })]aiii 
tablet  fiices  the  worshipper,  with  the  simple  yet  grand 
inscription.  The  Great  and  Holy  Sage. 

Contemporary  with  the  youth  of  Confucius  was 
Lao-tzo,  the  founder  of  the  Taouists,  or  Rationalists, 
born  in  the  j^ear  604  B.  C,  whose  transcendentalism 
proved  too  abstruse  for  the  masses,  and  forced  the  in- 
troduction of  many  superstitions  until  the  system  be- 
came transformed  into  a  gross,  confused,  spiritualistic 
idolatry,  largely  mixed  with  Sabianism,  and  suited 
rather  for  the  ignorant.  Many  traditions  are  cui-rent 
regarding  Lao-tze,  depicting  him  as  a  pantheistic  es- 
sence, a  spirit  who  assumed  the  forms  of  deities,  hinirs, 
and  teachers,  and  at  one  time  descended  from  heaven 
on  a  sunbeam,  fell  into  the  mouth  of  a  virgin,  and 
after  eighty-one  years'  gestation,  was  born  in  the  form 
of  an  old,  white-headed  man,  whence  his  name,  wliirh 
signifies  Old  Boy.  Himself  too  exalted  to  be  the 
immediate  object  of  worship,  prominence  is  assigned 
to  the  medicine  god,  the  dragon,  and  a  host  of  other 
euphemistic  gods  and  genii  presiding  over  inferior  de- 
partments. The  system  concerns  itself  less  witli  prepa- 
rations for  a  future  life  than  with  the  requirements  of 
the  present,  and  its  temples,  idols,  and  worship  are 
therefore  insignificant  compared  with  those  of  the 
Buddhist. 

Buddhism  with  its  meditation,  its  practice  of  viitue 
and  self-abnoo-ation,  its  belief  in  a  final  ideal  uiieon- 
sciousness,  a  Nirvana,  might  never  have  become  es- 
tablished in  China  but  for  the  leaven  of  superstitious 
rites  and  beliefs,  partly  the  remnants  of  a  ft)nncr 
national  religion,  which  was  added  to  suit  the  popular 
taste.  In  this  corrupted  form  it  filled  a  void  in  the 
yearning  spirit  of  tlie  celestials,  and  spreading  raj)idly 
from  the  time  of  its  introduction  in  the  beginning  ot 
tlie  Christian  era,  it  became  tolerated,  and  even  gen- 
erally accepted,  despite  the  persecution  of  alternate 


m^ 


THE  CHINAMAN'S  RELIGION. 


399 


rulers  and  the  sneers  of  the  learned  at  the  incongruous 
idolatry  wherein  the  masses  had  engulfed  both  this 
and  the  Taouistic  religion. 

Materialistic  in  his  tendencies,  and  devoid  of  rev- 
erence, the  Chinaman  is  prone  to  neglect  the  superior 
deities,  to  whom  his  mind  cannot  so  readily  be  lifted, 
wlio,  absorbed  in  their  grandeur,  concern  themselves 
little  with  insignificant  humanity,  and  wlio  will  not 
];aini  him,  since  they  are  the  embodiment  of  goodness 
and  mercy.  But  yielding  to  his  fear,  he  cringes  be- 
fore the  minor  gods  and  spirits  who  may  injure  him, 
and  with  whom  he  has  filled  every  earthly  object. 
Nature  is  to  him  a  sealed  book,  and  having  nothing 
wlierewith  to  replace  these  childish  fancies,  phenomena 
and  incidents  appear  but  as  the  sport  of  imps  and 
dt.it ies.  The  more  wonderful  and  inexplicable  their 
manifestation,  the  more  readily  he  yields  them  wor- 
ship. It  is  by  offering  the  means  to  avert  or  control 
tlu!  ever-threatening  prodigies  that  Taouism  has  man- 
aged to  sustain  itself,  despite  the  encroachments  of 
liuddhist  ideas.  Belief  influences  the  Chinaman  less 
tlian  fatalistic  adherence  to  custom,  and  thus  we  find 
even  the  superior  mind  bending  to  the  hievitable,  and 
ao(('[)ting  not  so  much  the  gross  superstitions  as  the 
liii^licr  principles  and  the  hopeful  prospect  of  a  future, 
painted  by  the  Taouist  in  the  existence  of  genii,  and 
by  tlie  Buddhist  follower  in  a  more  ideal  absorption. 
Confucius  also  speaks  in  his  book  of  heaven,  but  the 
refirences  are  too  vague  for  definition,  and  many 
scIk  lars  give  them  a  pantheistic  significance,  which 
appears  supported  by  the  worship  of  heaven  and  earth, 
evidently  as  a  dual,  all-pervading  essence.  Others 
reeognize  in  these  phrases  the  acknowledgment  of  a 
supreme  being.  The  worship  of  heaven  is  regarded 
as  pertaining  rather  to  the  superior  dignity  of  the 
emperor,  as  the  son  of  heaven,  and  as  ruler  not  only 
of  men  but  of  spirits  ;  as  the  embodiment  of  universal 
will,  actino;  on  individual  and  inexorable  destinv,  and 
as  the  unified  spirit  of  the  familv,  which  is  the  state, 


400 


MONGOUANISM  IN  AMERICA. 


wherein  patriotism  takes  the  form  of  family  piety  aiid 
ancestral  worship. 

The  future  existence  o^  the  soul  depends  upon  the 
purity  of  its  mundane  career,  or  rather,  it  would  seem. 
upon  the  amount  of  incense  and  offerings  wherew  itli 
the  gods  have  been  propitiated.  It  is  believed  that 
the  jjoosah^  the  minor  gods  of  various  departments, 
keep  account  of  the  actions  of  men,  and  pass  animally, 
at  the  close  of  the  year,  to  report  to  the  su^jreme 
ruler.  The  god  of  the  hearth  is  even  supposed  to 
render  a  monthly  balance  sheet,  and  the  divinity  occu- 
pying the  cynosura  to  take  account  thereof,  and 
shorten  the  thread  of  life  in  proportion  to  the  deficit 
The  three  spiritual  and  seven  animal  souls  of  the  body 
represent  the  male  and  female  principles  respectively 
of  the  dual  power  of  nature.  What  becomes  of  the 
animal  spirits  or  senses  is  not  defined,  but  of  the  male 
principle,  or  souls  of  reason,  one  remains  t^  the  body, 
the  second  enters  the  ancestral  tablet,  and  the  tliiid 
speeds  to  the  other  world  to  be  arraigned  before  the 
ten  judgment  gods.  His  good  and  evil  deeds — as 
represented  by  the  bribed  divinities  below — appear  as 
defenders  and  accusers,  and  sentence  is  passed  in  ac- 
cordance, condemning  him  to  a  higher  or  lower  form 
of  existence,  to  the  sphere  of  gods  and  genii,  or  to  the 
circle  of  suflfering  wretches  and  abhorred  beasts. 
There  is  generally  a  probationary  gradation  to  either 
destiny,  but  he  may  attain  bliss  or  misery  at  once. 
The  punishment  accords  with  the  crime;  gluttons 
may  be  plunged  into  lakes  of  blood  and  filth,  or 
changed  to  starving  wolves;  liars  have  the  tongue 
pierced  with  scorching  pincers ;  and  the  most  wieked 
are  cast  into  burnina"  furnaces.  There  are  many  in- 
congruitics  in  the  S3'stem,  and  to  account  for  the  mul- 
titude of  hovering  spirits  is  a  puzzle  even  to  the  priests ; 
they  may  belong  to  beings  who  have  not  yet  been 
assigned  forms  wherein  to  be  reborn.  Whether  the 
souls  become  gods  and  genii  or  not,  th^^  still  continue 
to  crave  for  the  same  wants  as  the  living,  apparently 


TEMPLES  IX  REMOTE  LANDS, 


401 


unable  to  help  themselves  to  anything  that  is  not 
specially  offered  to  them.  When  the  offerings  are 
buriK'd,  and  the  soul  of  things  despatched  to  them  by 
loving  friends,  their  attention  must  be  called  to  the 
coiisignnient.  The  custom  of  offering  food  and  other 
1^1  fts  to  the  ancestral  tablet  and  at  the  grave  indicates 
t  itlur  that  the  spirits  inhabiting  these  places  have 
separate  wants,  or  that  they  connnunicate  with  the 
s  »ul  ill  the  spirit  world,  who  is  allowed  to  mingle  with 
his  living  friends  only  on  certain  occasions,  during  the 
festivals  to  the  dead. 

There  was  quite  a  number  of  temples  in  tlie  Chi- 
uoso  quarter.  Five  of  the  six  companies  had  one 
each,  and  several  of  the  guilds  had  others,  which  as  a 
rule  occupied  a  room  in  tiie  upper  story  of  their  build- 
ings. They  owed  their  existence  to  small  subscriptions 
from  the  members  of  the  associations,  who  were  glad 
ti)  contribute  a  dollar  or  two  for  the  privilege  of  hav- 
ing their  names  inscribed  on  the  registers  posted 
round  the  temple  walls ;  but  the  piety  of  liberal  pa- 
trons was  also  evident,  and  speculators  were  not 
wanting  to  invest  money  in  a  scheme  which  promised 
good  returns.  Many  years  ago, when  the  region  be- 
yond Union  square,  in  San  Francisco,  was  yet  a  mass 
of  sand  and  brush,  an  enterprising  celestial  resolved 
to  stimulate  individual  piety  to  aid  him  in  making  an 
investment  of  this  kind,  whereby  he  might  live  at 
ease  and  grow  wealthy  by  the  sale  of  prayers  and 
oandles.  The  corner  of  Post  and  Mason  streets  was 
tho  site  chosen  for  the  divine  abode,  and  there  it  rose, 
facing  tlio  rising  sun,  though  hidden  from  eyes  pro- 
fane by  a  high  board  fence.  The  initiated  recoijnized 
the  ])la(!e  by  tho  Chinese  characters  over  the  gate, 
which  announced  that  the  Imperial  Heaven  spreads 
out  to  these  remote  lands,  which  were  indeed  de- 
pendencies of  the  Flowery  Kingdom.  Nevertheless, 
tlie  intrusion  of  barbarians  compelled  the  removal  of 
this  divine  advance  post,  and  it  was  left  to  other 
speculators  to  rear  the  monuments  of  devout  enter- 

£ssAYiJAND  Miscellany     20 


MUllWiliHlll 


|! 


402 


MONGOLIANISM   IN   AMERICA. 


prise  within  the  precincts  of  their  quarter.  There  was 
nothing  grand  or  awe-inspiring  about  these  edifices ; 
quite  the  reverse.  A  few  were  situated  on  the  niai!i 
streets,  with  tolerably  decent  approaches,  but  the 
rest  must  be  sought  in  a  labyrinth  of  noisome  alleys, 
as  if  to  illustrate  the  apothegm  that  it  is  not  a  bioad 
pleasant  path  which  leadetli  to  heaven. 

The  most  extensive  temple,  with  the  largest  con- 
stellation of  divinities,  was  in  a  narrow  passage  con- 
necting with  Dupont  and  Jackson  streets,  and  pre- 
senting a  most  uninviting  aspect  of  greasy,  smoky 
walls  and  shaky  superstructures,  with  odors  ])utling 
from  every  door  and  window.  Tearing  himself  loose 
from  the  importunities  of  a  fortune-teUcr,  and  a  series 
of  bedizened  females  who  blockaded  the  approaches, 
the  visitor  reached  a  dingy  brick  building,  the  two 
lower  stories  of  which  were  occupied  as  works! lojis 
and  dwellings.  Ascending  an  outside  stairway  of  tlio 
most  rickety  description,  he  came  to  the  third  and 
highest  floor,  where  dwelt  the  gods  in  gloomy  sol- 
emnity, and  in  an  atmosphere  laden  with  odors  of 
sandal- wood,  smoke,  and  incense.  If  cleanliness  is 
akin  to  godliness  then  assuredly  Satan  reigns  in 
pagandom.  The  only  notification  of  the  sacred  prox- 
imity was  afforded  by  a  small  gilt  sign  over  the  en- 
trance. Just  inside  stood  a  huge  plain  screen  with 
inscriptions  to  exclude  tlie  intrusive  glare  of  daylight, 
and  before  it  hung  a  three-foot  wide  tablet,  witli 
gilded  figures  of  men,  animals,  foliage,  and  pagodas, 
in  high  and  demi-relief,  depicting  incidents  from  the 
lives  of  the  gods.  The  right-hand  corner  throned  an 
idol  in  a  rather  flimsy  slirine,  surrounded  by  a  few 
scroll  decorations,  and  with  a  case  of  extinguissliod  in- 
cense tapers  before  him.  This  position  is  often  as- 
signed to  Thnig  Wong,  god  of  the  wall  and  moat,  or 
lord  of  the  province,  whose  image  rises  in  every 
town  in  China,  to  defend  it  from  enemies,  and  to  pro- 
mote its  welfare,  to  control  the  spirits  of  the  dead,  and 
to  regulate  the  rains.     In  time  of  drouth,  the  image 


GODS  AND  THEIR  DUTIES. 


408 


is  exposed  to  the  scorcliip<.;  sun,  that  it  may  feel  the 
heat  and  observe  the  neglect  it  has  been  guilty  of. 
To  aid  the  god  in  retrieving  his  error,  food  is  cast  in- 
to tlic  rivers  to  feed  the  waters  and  appease  their 
spirits. 

In  the  opposite  comer,  to  the  left  of  the  entrance, 
stood  a  platform,  seven  feet  high,  resembling  an  office- 
stool,  which  supported  a  tomtom,  and  beneath  it  a 
bell  of  bronze,  both  serving  to  rouse  the  gods  when 
s})ecial  appeals  or  offerings  were  made.     Behind  this 
Ava.s  a  brick  oven,  wherein  were  burned  the  toy  pres- 
ents for  gods  and  spirits,  releasing  their  souls  from 
the  earthly  substance  that  they  might  pass  to  spirit 
laud  and  serve  its  mhabitants.     A    small  dust-cov- 
ered skylight  allowed  a  dim  light  to  penetrate  into 
the  temple,  and  revealed  in  the  center  of  it  a  cabinet 
of  dark  wood,  three  feet  and  a  half  in  heicrht  and  four 
feet  in  length,  with  an  elaborately  carved  front,  pro- 
tected by  glass  and  wire,  and  representing  figures  like 
those  on  the  tablet  by  the  entrance,  but  finer  and  on 
a  larger  scale.     Upon  the  cabinet  stood  a  dozen  neatly 
moulded  vases  of  zinc,  or  pewter,  and  brass,  holding 
boU(jucts  of  artificial  flowers  mingled  with  tinsel  and 
dolls,  and  candlesticks  in  the  form  of  carved  and  col- 
(»rcd  tubes,  all  guarded  by  p  dragon  of  bulldog  as- 
pect.    Dragons  also  occupy  a  prominent  position  in 
the  Taouist  worship  as  rulers  over  seas,  rivers,  and 
pouds,  and  are,  therefore,  appealed  to  in  rainless  sea- 
sous.     Immedia-tely   beyond  this  cabinet,   stood  an- 
other of  plainer  construction,  with  similar  vases,  a  few 
tiny  images,   and  a  bronze   bowl  nearly  filled   with 
ashes,  wherein    was    stuck  a  number  of  burnt  sticks 
which  had  once  supported  colored  candles  and  incense 
tapers.     The  tapers  were  made  of  sandal  wood  rolled 
in  )>aper.     The  walls  were  covered  with  a  bountiful 
spi  lidding  of  long,  narrow  tablets  and  gay-looking  red 
and  yellow  paper  scrolls,  occasionally  set  with  cotton 
strips  and  fringes,  and  all  inscribed  in  characters  of 
scarlet,  blue,  and  gold,  forming  panegyrics  on  the  gods?, 


404 


MOXr.OLIANISM  IN  AMERICA. 


and  with  prayers  for  worshippers,  and  lists  of  sub- 
scribers, with  the  amounts  donated  for  the  erection 
and  maintenance  of  the  temple.  A  few  lanterns  of 
glass  and  of  paper,  with  an  oil  lamp  chandilicr, 
adorned  the  center  of  the  room,  but  were  lit  only  on 
festive  occasions.  Above  the  second  cabinet  rose  a 
false  arch  of  scroll  and  fret-work,  with  gilt  and  col- 
ored surfaces,  forming  an  alcove  of  the  inner  do] Kirt- 
ment,  and  bearing  the  inscription  Shing  Ti  Ling  Toi, 
spiritual  gallery  of  the  all-powerful  gods.  Bcliind 
this  was  a  silken  strip  with  the  words  Shing  Shan 
Mo  Keung,  gods  whose  holy  age  is  perpetual. 

In  the  recess  of  the  alcove  were  three  cabinets  sur- 
mounted by  elaborate  frames  of  scroll  work  and 
arabesque,  gilt  and  colored,  over  which  hung  red 
canopies,  drawn  back  and  knotted.  These  were  the 
shrines,  guarded  by  sitting  dragons.  In  the  central 
shrine,  which  was  larger  and  finer  than  the  rest, 
three  idols  were  enthroned  with  sceptres  and  otlicr 
insignia  in  their  hands.  Heavy,  black  mustaches  and 
imperials  ornamented  their  faces,  and  long,  red  veils  fell 
from  their  heads  to  either  side.  Above  their  heads 
were  symbolic  characters,  representing  their  attributes, 
and  before  and  around  them  was  a  profusion  of 
ornaments  of  artificial  flowers,  brass,  and  tinsel.  The 
central  and  larger  idol  was  Quong  Muh  Tien  Wang, 
the  clear-eyed  heaven  king,  trampling  on  snakes  and 
reptiles,  who  with  the  aid  of  his  two  companions  pro- 
tected the  people  from  ills.  This  central  place  was 
often  given  to  Yum  Ten  Tin,  god  of  the  sombre 
heaven,  who  also  guards  against  conflagrations.  At 
his  feet  stood  several  cups  with  cold  tea  to  prevent 
the  pangs  of  thirst  from  ruffling  the  divine  temper, 
and  by  their  side  a  bronze  bowl  with  the  stumps 
of  tapers,  one  of  which  was  still  smouldering  and 
oflering  its  incense  to  the  august  nostrils.  Above 
this  hung  a  lantern  of  figured  glass,  set  in  a  black 
frame,  wherein  burned  the  vestal  fire  which  cast  a 
perpetual  although  dim  light  on  the  path  of  the  gods. 


ONE  OF  HIE  ONLY  TRUE  RELKIIONS. 


406 


Before  the  other  idols  Imng  simple  glasses  with  oil, 
not  always  lighted,  however,  and  equally  neglected 
wtro  their  incense  bowls. 

Ill  the  shrine  to  the  right  sat  the  god  of  wealth, 
Tsoi  Pah  Shing  Kwun,  grasphig  a  bar  of  gold,  which 
attiaoted  the  frequent  invocations  of  his  lucre-loving 
[XM)plo  ;  and  to  the  left  was  Wah  To,  the  god  of  niodi- 
ciiie,  with  a  pill  between  his  eight  fingers.  He  flour- 
ished two  millenaries  ago  as  a  great  scholar,  possessed 
of  woiidcrous  healing  power,  which,  he  exercised 
ainoiig  the  poor.  Having  on  one  occasion  adminis- 
Uivd  a  wrong  medicine  with  fatal  results,  Wah  To 
bwame  so  stricken  with  grief  that  he  disposed  of  his 
worldly  affairs  and  followed  his  patient,  only  to  be 
raised  to  godship,  and  be  forever  pestered  Avith  appeals 
for  tlie  preservation  of  health  and  the  cure  of  diseases. 
His  ivrescriptions  were  obtained  by  means  of  the 
(Hvining  slips  to  be  found  in  an  urn  on  one  of  the 
tahles,  the  characters  of  which  were  explained  by  the 
teiiiitje  servants  with  the  aid  of  the  mystery  books  ; 
and  they  also  sold  medicines  prepared  according  to 
tlie  recipes  therein.  Pin  Tseuh  is  the  name  of 
aiiotlier  deified  physician. 

Kanged  along  the  wall  between  the  arch  and  the 
slirinos  were  the  eight  precious  emblems,  in  duplicate, 
one  sot  on  either  side  of  the  room,  mounted  on  poles 
and  having  the  appearance  of  imperial  insignia.  By 
their  fide  were  a  few  shabby  standards  and  baimerets 
of  silk,  with  gold  and  colored  embroidery.  Several 
plain  deal  tables  were  placed  here  and  there  to  receive 
nH'eriiigs,  but  were  seldom  used  except  at  festivals. 

Passing  through  a  side  door  to  the  right,  the  visitor 
piitered  a  second  room,  more  scantily  furnished  than 
tl\o  preceding.  A  few  scrolls  of  paper  and  cotton 
adorned  the  walls  here  and  there ;  two  dark  paper 
lanterns  huncj  from  the  ceiling ;  and  on  the  floor 
stood  a  plain  cabinet  with  zinc  vases  for  candlesticks 
and  bouquets,  and  a  few  common  deal  tables  for  pro- 
spective offerings.     This  chamber  was  consecrated  to 


406 


•MONCOLIANISM  IN  AMERICA. 


Kwan  Yin,  tlie  fjoddess  of  mercy,  a  princess  wlinse 
origin  is  lost  in  the  mist  of  antiquity,  but  of  wlioiii 
tnulition  relates  that  her  opposition  to  a  marriiigc, 
arranjred  by  the  king,  her  father,  so  enraged  him  that 
lie  ordered  the  Buddhist  convent  whither  she  liad 
fled  to  be  set  on  fire.  Her  prayers  turned  aside  tin; 
flames  from  herself  and  companions,  and  they  esciijH'd, 
while  all  around  them  crumbled  into  ashes.  Tlijs 
miracle  caused  her  to  be  adored  under  the  title  of 
Savior  from  Distress.  She  is  generally  represented  as 
a  maiden,  seated  in  a  lotus  flower,  the  emhh  in  of 
purity,  with  a  roll  of  prayers  in  her  hands,  round  her 
head  a  halo,  and  over  it  a  cloud  with  a  flying  parrot 
which  holds  a  rosary  in  its  beak.  Sheets  wero  sold 
at  the  temple  bearing  this  representation  of  tiu; 
goddess,  together  with  several  prayers,  an  extract  from 
which  read  as  follows:  "Revolving,  shining  goddess, 
goddess  of  repeating  goodness,  great  heavenly  king, 
Ah  Nan,  goddess  of  the  well-ordered  palace,  nio  yau 
mo  yau,  tsingtsing,  pi  yau ;  cause  litigations  to  be 
quieted,  and  deliver  us  from  all  courts  and  judirial 
business.  All  ye  great  gods,  all  ye  five  hundred  dis- 
tinguished disciples  of  Buddha,  save  me  a  true  be- 
liever, and  deliver  me  from  distress  and  trouble; 
then  will  I  make  mention  of  Kwan  Shi  Yin  ;  without 
laying  aside  the  ceremonial  cap,  diligently  will  I  re- 
hearse this  formula  a  thousand  times,  and  then  of 
necessity  calamities  and  troubles  will  be  dissipated." 
Another  of  the  forms  assigned  to  this  p-odd(  ss  is 
that  of  a  mother  dressed  hi  white  and  holding  a  clnld 
in  her  arms.  To  her  .ippeal  the  young  wives  who  de- 
.sire  issue.  She  also  appears  in  the  garb  of  a  fishniaid, 
as  the  patroness  of  fishermen;  or  in  the  form  of  a 
monster  with  four  faces  and  eight  arms,  significant  of 
her  protean  attributes.  Twenty  days  a  year  are  set 
aside  for  her  worship,  and  her  festivals  occur  on  the 
1 8th  day  of  the  second  and  sixth  months.  On  all 
souls'  day  she  is  borne  in  procession  in  the  guise  of  a 
gigantic  and  fierce  warrior,  to  keep  order  amon 


o-  the 


POVEl  TY  STRICKEN  DEITIES. 


407 


liunjj;ry  spirits.  Despite  the  prominence  of  her  divin- 
ity, the  shrine  was  not  carefully  tended,  foraconnnon 
oil  lump  j^liiniiiered  feebly  on  nothing  but  cold  tea,  and 
extinguished  the  incense  tapers  at  her  feet.  On  the 
other  side  of  the  room,  in  a  plain  niche,  was  the  oidy 
other  idol  in  the  room,  a  dark,  erect,  little  man,  guz- 
iiig  forlondy  on  the  extinguished  lamp  and  taper- 
stumps  before  him. 

The  third  and  innermost  room  was  filled  with  smoke 
and  odors  from  an  adjacent  kitchen,  and  was  of  still 
nieiiiier  a[)|K^arance.  The  wall  ornaments  were  rarer, 
and  the  cabinet  of  the  plainest.  Facing  the  side  en- 
trance was  Tu  Ti,  god  of  earth  in  a  poor  shrine,  or 
hox,  level  with  the  floor,  and  arrayed  in  a  miserable 
cotton  blouse ;  yet  this  idol  had  great  influence,  owing 
to  ]iis  supi)osed  power  to  grant  prosperit\%  and  to  pro- 
tect houses  ai-id  streets  from  evil  spirits.  He  was 
originally  a  prefect,  in  which  capacity  ho  managed  to 
pioeuro  the  emancipation  of  his  department  from  a 
yearly  slave  levy ;  and  in  recognition  of  tliis  service  a 
grateful  people  raised  him  to  godship  and  spj'ead  his 
worship  all  over  the  empire.  Deceased  heroes  and 
honored  residents  of  a  place  are  often  exalted  to  local 
proxies  of  the  god,  and  receive  honors  during  his  fes- 
tival on  the  second  day  of  the  second  month. 

In  the  recess  of  the  alcove  stood  a  large  shrine, 
plainer  than  the  alcove  shrines  in  the  other  rooms, 
and  containhiix  the  imaije  of  Wah  Kwany:,  the  i^iver 
of  wisdom,  with  three  eyes,  whose  festival  takes  place 
on  the  28th  day  of  the  ninth  month.  With  the  third 
and  never-slumbering  eye  in  the  forehead,  he  is  able 
to  see  1000  miles  around  him,  and  protect  his  adhe- 
rents against  conflagrations.  On  his  left  stood  two 
smaller  idols,  the  nearest  having  three  eyes  like  himself, 
and  on  his  right  is  a  bla'. -faced deity,  with  a  roughly- 
made  tiger  by  his  side,  before  which  was  an  egg  and 
s(Mnc  scattered  rice  to  appease  the  evil  propensities 
that  seem  to  lurk  in  its  eyes. 

The  idols  were  draped  statuettes  of  wood  or  plaster, 


408 


MONGOLIANISM  IX  AMERICA. 


iM 


one  and  a  half  to  tliree  feet  liigli,  accordinof  to  tin  ir 
iniportaneo;  usually  fat,  grotesque,  and  often  cross- 
eyed an(.l  inane  in  ap}>earance.  The  complexion  was 
in  conformity  with  itscharacter,  and  the  males  usually 
wore  mustache  and  imperial.  The  sculptured  dress 
was  made  conspicuous  by  paint  in  imitation  of  cin- 
broidered  silk  ;  glass  and  tinsel  ornaments  were  added. 
Few  wore  any  other  fabrics  than  a  long  red  cotton 
veil,  whicii  fell  from  both  sides  of  the  head  over  the 
shoulders  :  and  although  most  of  them  were  flimsv  af- 
fairs,  there  were  a  few  images  in  the  quarter  arra\ cd 
in  costly,  embroidered  silk  robes  and  jewels,  one  in 
Doctor  Li-po-tai's  temple  costing  several  thousand 
dollars.  They  were  brought  from  China  where  their 
consecration  is  attended  with  elaborate  ceremonies  to 
induce  the  deity  to  occupy  the  image  with  a  portion 
of  his  spirit.  Through  a  hole  in  the  back  arc  inseited 
the  heart,  lungs,  and  intestines,  of  silver  or  zinc,  with- 
out which  the  idol  cannot  live  and  be  effective.  I'lio 
local  idol  manufacturers  confine  their  skill  to  the  jno- 
duction  of  images  for  household  use,  of  shrine.s,  clotli- 
ing,  and  presents  of  pa^xT,  which  are  .sold  by  the  tem- 
ple .servants,  who  keep  in  their  office  a  large  stock  of 
candles,  chiefly  of  red  color,  tapers,  incense,  and  printed 
prayers.  Paper  money  and  certain  other  ofi'erings  re- 
quire to  be  consecrated  with  prescribed  ceremonies, 
including  a  long  array  of  prayers,  in  order  to  have 
effect.  Of  course,  a  large  quantity  is  consecrated  hy 
one  process. 

The  neatest  of  the  several  temples  in  San  Francisect 
was  that  of  the  Hop  Wo  company,  on  Clay  street, 
which  occupied  the  front  ])ortion  of  the  to})  stoiy. 
Attention  was  called  to  the  Imilding  by  a  clean. 
painted  balcony,  with  two  gilded  signs  and  a  couple  of 
lanterns,  backed  by  windows  of  tinted  glass.  Tluie 
was  oidy  one  room,  but  it  was  clean  and  comparatively 
bright,  enabling  the  visitor  to  examine  to  his  sati-stac- 
tion  the  red  silk  bamiercts,  standards,  and  ceremonial 
umbrella  with  heavy  curtain  fringes,  all  richly  ( ni- 


anoiscd 

stivct, 

storv. 

clcilll. 
iU|il('  <it 

Thnv 

ativcly 

■;atisl';ic- 

I'lnoiiial 

ilv  CIH- 


CHINESE  MYTHOLOGY. 


409 


broidered  with  gold  and  silk  of  different  colors,  rej)re- 
seiitiiiL^  dragons,  birds,  and  foliage.  The  carved 
caliinots  and  slirines,  with  gilt  figures,  w'eri>  liner  than 
those  alr<*ady  described,  and  the  wall-tablets  were 
iH'Mtcr.  Tills  abode  was  dedicated  exelusivelv  to 
Kwun  Tai,  the  god  of  war,  whose  image,  with  red 
face,  glaring  eyes,  and  red  Hannel  surtout,  was  en- 
throned in  the  gaudy  shrine.  He  was  j)owerful  ntit 
only  in  settling  riots  and  disputes,  in  conferring 
hnucry  and  intimidating  the  enemy,  but  also  in  finan- 
cial uuitteTS,  and  might  consequently  be  fouiui  presid- 
iii'>"  at  almost  everv  store.  Sixteen  centuries  a<jo 
Kwau  Tai  played  the  role  of  a  successful  general,  who, 
on  the  conclusion  of  a  long  war,  declined  all  honors 
and  rewards,  and  joined  a  holy  order  for  the  ]»ractice 
of  benevolence.  Formerly  a  leader  of  bloodthirsty 
soldiers  for  the  relief  of  towns  and  government,  he 
UdW  led  pious  monks  to  the  relief  of  th(^  })oor  and  sick. 
Once  ttnly  he  left  this  duty  to  save  tlu^  tnipire  from 
tlie  rebels,  but  returned  innnediately  afterward  to  his 
task  of  mercy.  While  so  empKtyed,  there  appeared 
at  the  convent  a  distressed  and  wounded  ]>ilgrim,  in 
whom  he  recognized  the  defi'ated  rebel  chief.  The 
(Jutv  of  the  sohlier  struggled  with  the  spirit  of  charity 
lunl  suceund)ed.  The  wanderer  was  relieved  and  sent 
on  his  way  rejoicing,  while  Kwan  Tai  surrendered 
liimsclf  to  the  unyielding  law  to  sutler  death.  The 
<;iief-stricken  emperor  did  not  interfere  with  the  course 
t»f  justice,  but  he  exalted  him  to  the  ranks  of  the  gods, 
iuid  as  the  ])atron  of  the  ^danchu  dvnastv  Kwan  Tai 
has  often  aj)[)(>ared  to  aid  J\<'  imi)erial  ai'ms. 

A  few  other  temples  in  San  Francisco  were  conse- 
crated to  special  divinities.  That  which  once  stood 
iMi  Post  street  was  originally  <ledicated  to  Tien  Wiin, 
<|Uren  of  heaven,  the  lomforter  in  trouble,  especially 
ef  sailors.  In  conformity  with  the  eubcmeristic  ideas 
"t  th(!  Chinese,  she  is  traced  to  a  common  mortal  who 
li\  rd  >.'  .i]t  eight  ctMituries  ago  at  Fo  Tin,  on  the  sea- 
board of  Tukien,  the  daughter  of  a  seafaring  family. 


!' 


liii 


410 


MONGOLIANISM  IN  AMERICA. 


Her  extraordinary  beauty  and  talent  drew  a  liost  of 
admirers,  but  they  vowed  in  vain,  for  heaven  itsolf 
had  selected  her  for  a  bride,  and  removed  her  early 
from  their  midst.  Slie  had  been  subject  to  epileptic 
fits,  during  which  her  spirit  was  said  to  fly  to  the 
rescue  of  storm-ridden  crews.  This  belief  gained  ac- 
ceptance among  her  countrymen,  who  speedily  exalted 
her  to  a  divinity,  and  raised  temples  for  her  along  tjie 
seashores  and  river  banks,  whence  they  invited  tJ!-' 
worship  of  passing  mariners.  A  favorite  emblematic 
adjunct  of  the  idol  is  a  full-rigged  junk,  with  eyes  in 
the  bow  wherewith  to  find  its  way  across  the  patlilrss 
ocean.  To  her  tem])le  in  San  Francisco  was  afterward 
added  the  image  of  Kin  Wah,  the  guardian  of  cliiklrcn, 
to  whom  pretenders  to  motherhood  made  ajipcals. 
The  Traviatas  had  also  a  patroness.  For  so  little 
religion,  the  Chinese  had  many  gods. 

In  the  temple  buildhig  of  the  six  companies  mi;j,lit 
be  found  altars  bearing;  the  names  of  deceased  moin- 
bers,  and  tablets  were  erected  in  the  houselmlds  to 
receive  the  adoration  and  offerings  of  loving  dosceiul- 
ants.  Several  traditions  exist  to  account  for  this  the 
most  sacred  and  widespread  worship  among  the  Chi- 
nese. One  relates  that  many  centuries  ago  an  oHicer 
who  was  travelling  with  his  prince  throu  rh  a  famine- 
stricken  district  of  the  empire  cut  off  a  piece  of  his 
own  flesh  to  sustain  his  beloved  master.  This  so  ex- 
hausted him  that  he  died  by  the  way,  and  the  itrlnce 
on  hearinir  of  his  devotion  erected  a  tablet  to  cnin- 
memorato  it.  Another  story  runs  that  a  man  wlio 
had  been  in  the  habit  of  ill-treating  a  female  relative 
became  so  repentant  after  her  death  that  he  raised  an 
imago  to  her  in  the  household.  On  one  oceasieii 
when  the  man  was  beating  his  wife,  in  pursuaiiee  of 
the  old  habit,  the  latter  pricked  the  image,  in  anm'r 
or  appeal,  whereupon  the  statuette  majiifestcd  Icr 
sorrow  at  the  family  feud  by  shedding  blood  as  m  <  11 
as  tears.  This  miracle  was  noised  abroad,  and  it  came 
gradually  to  be  a  custom  to  erect  images  or  tablets  ta 


TEMPLE  GUARDIANS. 


411 


ancestors,  whose  spirits  were  evidently  watching  over 
tlio  household. 

The  guardians  of  the  temples  are  not  rci>ular  ]>riests 
but  merely  attendants,  who  wait  upon  the  idols,  trim 
the  lamps,  su])ply  incense  tapers,  sound  the  tomtom, 
keep  clean,  and  aid  in  ceremonial  acts.  They  are 
sui»[)ortcd  by  the  revenue  which  results  from  the  sale 
of  incense,  candles,  prayers,  toys,  and  talismans,  and 
assist  to  dispose  of  the  choice  food  offerings  prt'sentcd 
to  tlio  gods.  Tliey  also  act  as  diviners  and  exorcists, 
and  if  the  attendance  becomes  slack  at  any  period,  a 
miiiule  is  readily  invented  to  stir  the  slumbering  piety 
into  activity,  or  little  festivals  are  extemporized  to  in- 
(hice  guilds  or  particular  classes  to  patronize  them. 
The  attendants  as  well  as  the  temples  may  be  hired 
hy  the  day  or  hour  for  the  performance  of  special  ser- 
vices, wlien  thanks  have  to  be  rendered  for  favors,  or 
ajipeals  made  for  divine  aid. 

'i'lie  ceremonies  for  special  services  vary  but  little 
from  those  observed  daily  during  the  festivals.  At 
certain  intervals  during  the  day  tlie  attendants  appear 
in  robes  of  dark  and  light  blue  silk,  an<l  march  round 
the  idol-chamber  chanting  a  hymn.  They  then  kneel 
Ix'fore  the  idol,  bowing  a  certain  number  of  times,  rise 
and  circle  round,  and  halt  before  the  incense-table, 
wli're  the  arms  are  extended  in  ceremonial  gesture. 
A  thid  march  round  brings  them  once  more  to  the 
idol,  to  V  hom  food  is  humbly  offered  after  a  seriatim 
!)  •/'  to  one  another.  Having  propitiated  the  deity 
h. ;.  i'o-urn  to  tlie  incense  table  to  consult  the  divin- 
i'ln'  1-n.  '^ncl  the  book  of  mystery,  a  task  which  is 
alteiiu.'-',  '.  with  several  more  processions,  attended  by 
chants  and  orchestral  music.  The  music  has  in  view 
the  twofold  object  of  rousing  the  drowsy  god,  and 
keeuino;  liim  in  (rood  humor. 

On  ordinary  occasions  little  or  no  rev(>rence  is 
!>!io\vn  to  the  gods,  ])robably  because  they  are  sup- 
■>osed  to  be  napping,  and  att<'ndants  move  round  in 
leeir  sacred  duties  of  lighthig  tapers,  placing  oll'erings, 


I     ■• 


|i||  :. 


I 
I 


H 


*4 
■'A 

1      '"  - 

t  ^ 

*■ 

412 


MONGOLIANISM  IN  AMERICA. 


and  so  forth,  as  unconccmccily  as  y  they  wore  per- 
forming a  household  task.  Worshippers  are  equally 
nonchalant.  The  hat  is  retained  on  the  head,  the 
cioai'  is  not  removed,  and  talk  as  well  as  laughter  are 
freely  indulged  in.  On  approaching  the  idol  to  ninke 
an  offering,  they  place  it  on  the  tahle  or  altar,  li<;l,t 
the  incense  ta})er,  and  retire  without  more  ceremony 
than  a  quick,  careless  chin-chinning,  that  is,  tlirt  o 
low  bows.  It  is  only  for  special  reasons  that  tiny 
exhibit  more  devotion.  If  health  has  been  re8t(aed, 
a  journey  safely  accomplished,  or  a  fortunate  barnaiii 
made,  then  may  they  consider  it  prudent  to  return 
thanks  in  order  to  insure  the  continuance  of  divine 
favor.     St  J  e  devout  in  prayers  and  ofi'e  rings  do 

they  become  \.    m  a  favor  has  to  be  sought,  the  care- 
less   bow  is   then    replaced    by    humble    prostration, 
wherein  the  head  strikes  the  floor  before  the  shrine, 
and  jtrayers  are  repeated  on  the  rosary  beads.     This 
devotion  is  particularly  noticeable  among  the  women, 
who  appear  to    feel   their   hiferiority.     If  the    wor- 
shipper has  a  request  to  make,  he  turns  from  the  god 
whom  he  has  propitiated  to  the  divining  urn,  wlii(  h 
contains  a  score  or  more  of  bamboo  strips,  and  eitlier 
[licks  one,  while  muttering  his  wish,  or  shakes  tlie 
urn,  until  a  strip  falls  out.     The  mavk  on  this  strip 
refers  him  to  the  yellow  book  of  oracies,  wherein  lii  s 
the  answer  of  the  god,  worded  in  parables,  or  mystic 
sentences,  which  may  be  construed  into  almost  any 
form.     For  instance,  "The  ancient  man   Luk  Sliun 
suffered  captivity  in  a  labyrinth.     Like  a  person  in 
his  cups,  he  sees  forms  confused  and  deceptive.     Sud- 
denly he  meets  with  an  honorable  man  who  leads  liini 
safely  out.     This  person,  thereupon  rejoicing,  escajics 
from  the  net."     Another  may  read:  "Desiring  one. 
he  obtains  two.     Venturing  little  and  gaining  mu(  li. 
Both  public  and  private  business  mutually  aid  each 
other.     There  is  extreme  profit  in  asking  tor  wealth." 
The   former  reply  is  evitlently  favorable,  while   the 
latter   appears   like   an  admonition   not  to   feel   ue- 


GOOD  AND   EVIL  OMENS. 


413 


spoiulent,  but  to  try  aijjain  at  a  future  time.  An- 
otlur  and  simple  mode  of  questioninj^  the  gods  is  to 
iippcal  to  the  divining  blocks.  These  consist  of  a 
jviir  of  wooden  half-moons,  round  on  one  side,  and 
Hat  on  the  other,  representing  the  male  and  female 
piiiieiples  of  the  dual  power  in  nature.  Framing  his 
wish,  the  worshipper  drops  them  on  the  floor,  and  if 
our.  falls  flat,  while  the  other  remains  on  its  rounded 
surface,  then  the  answer  is  favorable.  If  this  happens 
twice  out  of  three  times,  he  is  satisfied ;  if  not,  he 
struggles  with  fortune  thrice  the  sacred  three  times ; 
(ir,  if  the  enterprise  is  of  great  importance,  he  will 
consult  the  gods  and  the  blocks  for  three  successive 
(liivs.  It  is  also  th;  custom  to  seek  divine  answers  in 
ii  dream,  and  after  pro})itiating  the  god  the  worsh.ipper 
win  spread  his  mat  on  the  temple  floor,  })raying  for  a 
whisper  from  spirit  land.  This  ceremonj'  is  frequently 
|)'rf(jnned  at  home,  where  the  kitchen  god  is  the  usual 
personage  addressed. 

The  direction  of  all  afftiirs  in  life  does  not  pertain  im- 
iiK'diately  to  the  gods,  however,  but  falls  und(^r  the 
cDiiti'ol  of  imps  or  spirits,  whose  disposition  must  l)e 
studied  before  an  enterprise  can  be  carried  out.  The 
alnanac,  issued  under  the  auspices  of  the  combined 
wis  lorn  of  imperial  counselors,  is  an  indispensable 
.;ui(ie  in  these  matters.  It  points  out  the  lucky  and 
unlucky  days  and  signs;  when  a  man  should  or 
should  not  enter  on  official  duties  or  important  trans- 
actions, when  it  might  be  disastrous  to  engage  in  a 
hattle,  when  risky  to  speculate  or  gamble,  when  dan- 
ijl'pous  to  slaughter  or  to  apply  certain  remedies,  and 
so  on.  Rules  like  these  may  cause  ex})ense,  incon- 
venience, and  misery,  but  they  also  afford  a  good  ex- 
cuse for  ignoring  the  calls  of  duty.  Every  unusual 
phenomenon,  every  accident,  every  peculiar  occur- 
ri'ui'o,  is  fraught  with  portentous  significance.  If  a 
•  loud  assumes  a  strange  form,  if  the  candle  is  extin- 
guished V>y  a  gust  of  wind,  if  the  wick  curls,  or  a 
sitark  falls,  if  a  muscle  twitches,  then  may  good  or 


Hi 


i>    !| 


m 


IN 


• 


414 


MONGOLIANISM   IN  AMERICA. 


i 


h 


n 


bad  fortune  be  expected,  according  to  the  hour  and 
circumstance.  If  a  crow  or  hawk  flies  over  one's 
head,  it  is  a  bad  omen;  but  a  singing  bird  is  a  liar- 
binger  of  joy.  To  overcome  or  to  neutralize  the  ills 
which  beset  the  path  of  hfe  at  every  step,  becomes  a 
serious  business.  Fortunately  there  is  that  com- 
pendium of  wisdom,  the  almanac,  to  consult.  It  di- 
rects that  if  a  house  suffers  evil  by  being  overshadowed 
by  a  tree,  or  by  the  higher  dwelling  of  a  neigiibor, 
then  a  flagstaif  may  be  erected  of  a  certain  len^tli, 
and  in  a  certain  position,  or  a  lantern  may  be  sus- 
pended, bearing  the  inscription,  "  peace,"  and  the  di- 
vine name  of  Tz-mi-yuen,  and  the  influence  will  be 
neutralized.  Houses  and  furniture  may  be  made  of 
a  peculiar  form,  to  attract  fortune  or  repel  evil. 
Doors,  walls,  and  effects  may  bo  cliarmed  with  sacred 
inscriptions,  dragons,  or  other  figures.  Charms  aiso 
protect  the  person,  and  the  ankles  of  children  and 
women  are  encircled  by  ivory  rings ;  round  the  nock 
hang  amulets  of  sandal-wood,  archaeological  relics,  or 
a  gilded  bag ;  in  the  ears  are  talismanic  rings ;  and 
bells  and  images  cling  to  the  dress. 

In  matters  so  momentous  which  concern  health, 
prosperity,  and  life  itself,  the  Chinaman  dares  not,  of 
course,  trust  to  his  own  judgment,  aided  only  by  the 
limited  rules  of  the  almanac  and  the  vague  oracles  of 
gods  ;  he  must  hie  to  one  of  the  numerous  professional 
mediums,  astrologers,  and  sorcef-ers,  who  are  deeply 
read  in  spirit  lore,  and  hoary  with  experience.  They 
will  call  any  given  spirit  to  lift  the  veil  of  the  future, 
consult  the  Fung-shwui,  or  winds  and  waters,  skttch 
a  career,  guide  to  fortune,  and  surmount  obstacles. 

Mediums  who  commune  with  spirits  are  generally 
old  women,  called  Kwai-ma,  and  the  most  popular 
are  those,  who,  anterior  to  being  reborn  in  this  world, 
arc  supposed  to  have  allied  themselves  by  friendship 
and  gratitude  with  a  soul  yet  awaiting  birth,  and  which 
lives  in  their  body,  aiding  them  to  confer  with  other 
spirits.     Some  mediums  acquire  control  over  a  spirit 


ASIATIC  SPIRITUALISM. 


416 


bv  placing  an  image  among  the  graves,  and  seeking 
by  long  prayers  and.  attractive  ottbrings  to  induce  a 
wandering  soul  to  enter  therein  and  become  their  aid. 
Others  fasten  their  evil  eye  on  some  person  of  ability, 
and  seek  to  cast  a  spell  over  his  soul,  obliging  it  to 
take  up  its  abode  in  the  image  after  his  death  which 
is  said  to  follow  very  quickly  wi*h  such  practices. 
No  subject  is  too  trivial  or  too  vas*^i  for  the  greedy 
medium,  and  she  is  prepared  to  act  for  anj'one  who 
brings  the  necessary  adjuncts  of  a  little  rice,  three 
incense  sticks,  and,  above  all,  some  money,  wherewith 
to  allure  the  spirit.  She  endeavors  to  learn  as  much 
as  possible  of  the  history  of  the  a[)plicant,  in  connec- 
tion with  his  wishes,  and  then,  lii4htin<jj  the  sticks  ami 
placing  them  in  her  hair,  she  scatters  some  rice  about 
her,  closes  her  eyes,  and  mutters  words  of  m_\.stic  im- 
port as  her  head  droops  over  the  table  before  her. 
After  a  while  the  spirit  apj)ears,  and  addresses  tlui 
applicant  through  the  unconscious  medium.  If  the 
spirit  is  not  in  a  favorable  mood,  it  may  be  iiccessary 
to  ap])easc  it  with  a  choice  meal.  While  discussing  its 
steaming  essence,  the  mutterings  may  assume  vague 
reference  to  the  wishes  of  the  dupe,  who  is  usually 
recommended  to  perform  certain  religious  rites,  in 
order  to  attain  his  ol)ject.  Even  the  temple  and  the 
class  of  ofllcrings  are  indicated  to  gain  for  the  iiu^lium 
tlie  additional  profit  of  a  percentage  from  the  priests. 
aV  favorite  mode  of  spirit  communication,  even  with 
tilt!  intelligent,  is  for  two  persons  to  hold  a  stick,  with 
pencil  attached,  vertically  on  a  board  covered  with 
sand,  and  invoke  the  spirit  to  write  the  oracle  under 
tlieir  tremulous  hands. 

Fortune-tellers  arc  more  patronized  than  mediums, 
and  may  be  found  in  considci'able  nund^er,  prepared 
to  write  out  the  past  and  future,  disclose  the  prosp(K  ts 
of  an  undertaking,  and  point  out  the  way  to  employ- 
ment, to  investments,  and  to  happiness.  Their  stock 
ni  trade  consists  of  a  table  ;  an  urn  containing  divining 
Btieks,  which  are  strips  of  wood  with  characters  in- 


41C 


MONOOLIANISM  IN  AMERICA. 


i.' 


scribed  ;  a  slate  and  some  paper,  with  pencil  and  India 
ink;  and  a  few  books  with  explanations  of  viuious 
methods  of  divination,  including  phrenology,  pahiiis- 
try,  theomancy,  sciomancy,  and  sortilege,  illuHtratcil 
with  diagrams.  The  principal  method  is  by  aid  of  the 
Confucian  system  of  the  dual  principles  of  nature,  mule 
and  female,  the  former  representing  the  heavenly  at- 
tributes of  light,  heat,  and  perfection,  the  latter,  the 
earthly,  of  darkness,  cold,  and  imperfection,  symbolizrd 
respectively  by  —  and  — .  By  forming  these  lines 
into  parallel  couples,  four  combinations  are  obtaiiifd, 
to  which  have  been  applied  the  names  of  the  cardinal 
virtues,  piety,  morality,  justice,  and  wisdom.  By 
forming  them  into  triple  parallels,  eight  combinations 
result,  which  symbolize  heaven,  earth,  fire,  air,  water, 
mountains,  thunder,  moisture.  By  further  combina- 
tion of  the  virtues  and  elements  sixty-four  aphorisms 
result,  on  which  have  been  framed  not  only  the  an- 
swers of  diviners,  but  a  system  of  ethics  and  a  cosmog- 
ony. The  applicant  for  mystic  glimpses  draws  one 
or  more  divining  strips,  the  characters  on  wliich  arc 
noted  by  the  fortune-teller,  and  combined  witli  the 
above  symbols  according  to  a  prescribed  form.  The 
result  is  convej'ed  generally  in  an  abscure,  non-com- 
mittal answer,  which  is  greedily  puzzled  over  by  the 
dupe,  and  twisted  into  the  most  flattering  versions 
possible.  Instead  of  the  strips,  three  copper  cash, 
marked  with  similar  characters,  may  be  used  by  the 
applicant.  Shaken  in  a  box,  they  are  cast  by  liini 
thrice  three  times,  and  the  different  combinations  of 
characters  formed  into  a  diagram  by  the  numisnianeer, 
who,  asa  close  observer  of  human  nature,  also  calls  his 
penetration  to  aid  in  framing  the  answer.  He  further 
discovers  the  cause  of  diseases  and  their  remedv,  and 
keeps  a  supply  of  medicine  to  palm  off"  upon  his  im- 
pressible patients,  or  throws  custom  into  the  hands 
of  certain  doctors  and  apothecaries.  Spare  n.omcnts 
are  besides  devoted  to  writinjj  letters  for  the  illiterate. 
In  the  upper  strata  of  the  divining  profession  stands 


ASTROLOGY  AXD  IJEM0N'0L0(  i  Y. 


417 


the  astrolojjjer,  who  pavea  liis  way  to  respectability  by 
cliiuu;ing  from  one  to  five  dollars  for  what  the  huin- 
bkr  hrother  will  do  ft)r  as  many  diiDcs,  and  who  sus- 
tains his  reputation  by  a  larger  collection  of  books, 
treating  on  soothsaying,  cosmogony,  and  stellar  in- 
HiieiK'o.  The  dual  character  of  the  hours,  days, 
iiKiiilhs,  and  years  of  a  cycle,  arc  formed  into  eight 
iliiigrams,  each  having  several  scores  of  combinations, 
sonic  marked  with  lucky  red,  others  with  ominous 
black.  With  these  are  connected  the  ethic  diauiams 
of  tlio  fortune-teller,  and  the  kings  of  the  four  seasons, 
njiresented  by  four  figures,  on  the  various  i)arts  of 
wliicli  are  marked  characters  denoting  the  dilFerent 
lioui's  of  the  day  and  night,  changed  in  position  on 
each  figure.  If  a  person  has  been  born  under  the 
character  marked  on  the  head  or  hand  of  the  king, 
]irosi)erity  awaits  him;  under  other  characters  his 
]iros]K'cts  are  more  or  less  favorable,  but  the  sign  on 
the  foot  bodes  misfortune.  Provided  with  the  hour, 
day,  month,  and  year  of  birth,  the  astrologer  forms 
the  horoscope  by  connecting  their  characters  with 
those  of  the  five  eknnents,  the  zodiac,  and  the  kings, 
till  the  diagram  deveh)ps  into  a  perfect  chart,  gene- 
nlizing  destiny  for  decades,  or  detailing  the  prospects 
of  everv  month,  if  the  fee  is  lary-e  enough.  The 
periods  are  pointed  out  which  fall  under  the  influence 
of  evil  stars  and  phenomena,  and  the  course  of  con- 
duct indicated  wherewith  to  pass  safely  through  the 
danger.  The  happy  epochs  are  also  marked  with  pre- 
cautionary regulations  for  neutralizing  the  appearance 
of  a  crow  or  other  evil  omens  that  may  chmd  the  hor- 
izon. The  best  3'ear  is  pointed  out  for  making  a  for- 
tune; when  to  build  a  house  and  where;  when  a  son 
will  bo  born,  and  so  on.  Palmistr}',  phrenologv%  and 
physiogiunny  are  frequently  made  use  of  to  perfect 
the  diagrams. 

]\Iany  revelations  of  diviners  attribute  the  cause  of 
troubles  to  some  of  the  evil  spirits  which  haunt  the 
children  of  heaven  on  every  side.     When  a  house  is 

Essays  and  Miscellany     '£l 


;  i  1' 


I 


I 


41 S 


MONGOLIANISM  IX  AMERICA. 


1.  w 


m^ 


built,  a  new  lodging  occupied,  or  a  new  suit  of  clotlics 
put  on,  an  imp  is  sure  to  inveigle  himself  into  some 
cranny,  and  being  aware  of  this  the  Chinaman  lias 
timely  recourse  to  exorcism  and  charms,  in  order  to 
secure  himself.  A  common  method  is  to  take  a  tray 
with  some  rice  and  three  cups  of  liquid,  place  a  burn- 
ing incense-stick  at  each  corner,  light  some  pajier  of 
the  yellow,  talismanic  color,  and  empty  the  three  cups 
upon  the  flaming  paper,  while  scattering  the  ikc. 
This  has  the  efi:ect  of  driving  away  demoniac  s})iiits 
and  of  appeasing  the  good.  But  there  are  unguarded 
moments  when  a  charm  may  have  been  neglected,  and 
free  entry  allowed  to  the  ever-lurking  spirits,  wliose 
second  entry  is  far  more  serious  than  the  first,  as  the 
holy  book  teaches.  In  such  cases  it  is  safer  to  call 
in  the  experienced  aid  of  one  of  the  professional 
exorcists,  known  as  Nam  Mo.  If  a  house  is  haunted, 
for  instance,  the  charmer  commences  by  burning  in- 
cense before  the  family  gods  and  mumbling  incanta- 
tions, while  preparing  a  sacred  liquid  consisting  of 
water  mixed  with  ashes  from  yellow  charm  scrips, 
which  bears  a  curse  in  vermilion  or  red  letters. 
Armed  with  a  sword  and  a  magic  wand  engra^('d 
witli  three  stars  and  the  name  of  the  Thunderer,  lie 
proceeds  to  rave  and  stamp,  to  brandish  and  whirl  liis 
implements,  and  to  squirt  in  every  direction  from 
his  mouth  the  sooty  liquid,  yelling  to  the  demons 
to  depart  in  a  manner  that  makes  it  appear  as 
if  they  had  possession  of  him  rather  than  of  the 
house.  A  similar  procedure  is  used  to  relieve  a 
possessed  person.  If  the  diviner  finds  that  an  ances- 
tral spirit  troubles  the  afflicted,  the  cause  must  bo 
looked  for  and  remedied  by  more  liberal  ofFerin-js.  or 
change  of  tomb. 


'g^.. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


MONEY   AND  MONOPOLY. 

Of  man's  injustice  why  sliould  I  complain  T 
The  gods  and  Jove  hiniscif,  heliohl  in  vain 
Triumphant  treasim,  yet  no  thunder  Hies. 

— ('olliih't'  Viri/lt. 

There  is  something  in  the  liandling  of  money  for 
in^ain  tliat  tends  to  the  demoralization  of  tlie  finer 
faculties.  It  sears  the  more  generous  fcelincfs,  and 
makes  the  heart  like  the  metal,  cold  and  hard.  There 
is  a  difTcrence  in  mani})ulating  one's  own  money  or 
aiiotlier's,  the  former  tending  to  the  higher  selfishness. 
There  is  a  difference  in  this  respect  even  between  the 
commercial  banker  and  men  of  the  savings  bank, 
to  tlic  disadvantage  of  tlie  former,  in  whose  occupa- 
tion tliere  is  less  of  the  sentiment  of  benefit  to  others. 

Tliere  are  few  positions  more  unfavorable  for  mind 
and  soul  development  than  that  of  bank-teller,  where 
the  man  becomes  a  counting-machine,  the  mind  being 
forced  to  fix  itself  attentively  on  the  work  in  order  to 
avoid  nnstakes,  while  ground  down  by  dead  monotony. 
This,  however,  is  totally  diftcrent  from  the  occupatif)n 
of  the  manager,  who  is  obliged  constantly  to  arbitrate 
hi'tween  the  interests  of  the  bank  and  the  necessities 
of  applicants  for  loans.  The  aristocracy  of  England, 
when  ruling  trade  and  money-making  from  thf  ir 
higlier  atmosphere,  could  hardly  have  selected  \c^^ 
improving  occupations  to  be  followed  with  some 
dci^ree  of  respectability  by  necessitous  lordlings  than 
those  of  banker  and  jeweller. 

Monopoly  exercises  a  more  vicious  reflex  influence 
upon  the  man  than  usury  or  any  other  form  of  exact- 

MIO) 


MOXKY  AND  ISICNOFOLY. 


ing  ojain  from  one's  fellows.  The  system  of  slavery  is 
(ioinoraliziii«^  to  the  master,  because  no  man  can  prac- 
tice injustice  toward  his  fellow-man  without  h(  inn 
iiimself  injured  and  debased  thereby.  So  it  is  with 
tht;  {L^ambler,  whether  in  the  shares  of  the  brokt  I's 
board,  or  in  the  cornering  of  wheat  for  an  advance,  ov 
at  the  faro-table  in  the  club-room,— any  system  of  ex- 
tortion, or  obtaining  from  or  forcing  pirsons  to  pay 
money  unjustly,  and  without  giving  full  equivalent,  is 
not  only  injurious  to  tlie  victim  and  the  public,  but 
most  of  all  to  him  who  ])ockets  the  spoils. 

Tv/enty  years  ago  half  a  million  of  dollars  was  con- 
sidered quite  a  fortune  ;  ten  years  ago  three  or  i\\v 
nullion-dollar  men  were  becominu:  plentiful;  to-dav 
for  a  person  to  be  remarkably  rich  he  nmst  have  from 
ten  to  fifty  millions.  Some  of  these  large  fortunes 
have  been  legitimately  made,  others  of  them  have  not; 
hence,  not  unfrequently  we  hear  the  question  asked 
regarding  a  rich  man  and  his  money,  Did  he  come  by 
it  honestly  ? 

])uring  these  days  of  strong  competition  and 
defined  business  channels,  the  laroest  fortunes  are  not 
made  by  merchants  or  manufacturers,  but  by  nianij)ii- 
lators  of  mines,  railways,  or  grain.  The  hnids  of  a 
large  holder  may  so  increase  in  value  as  to  mak(;  him 
enormously  wealtliy,  and  there  arc  many  cattle-kings 
among  the  millionaires;  but  as  a  rule  the  great  fui'- 
tunes  come  from  <>amblino;  ventures,  trickeiv  on  a 
mighty  magnificent  scale,  or  downright  rascality 
barely  shielded  by  all-accommodating  lav/,  but  all 
under  various  degrees  of  indirection. 

The  manipulation  of  capital  in  a  speculative  manner, 
and  the  making  avail  of  oppoitunity,  which  in  the 
l^acific  States  have  led  to  so  many  large  fortunes,  were 
primarily  due  in  a  measure  to  the  placer-mining  occu- 
pation which  predominated  throughout  the  Pacific 
coast.  The  pursuit,  with  its  chance  results,  ni»\\  a 
competency,  now  a  sudden  fortune,  but  usually  blaul^s, 
with   its  dcsultorv  work,  its  wandering  life,  and  its 


ORIfiTN  OF  TIIK  OAMKLIXd  .sl'lltlT. 


4U 


l.Kisi;  lial)its,  all  teiickd  to  conllnn  the  rt'stloss  ninl 
uaiiil)lin;4  i)r()i)C'nsitu'S  of  the  adventurers  who  HocUmI 
liitli(r.  The  example  of  those  who  leturiKtl,  the 
in  us  and  fancies  spread  from  the  enchanted  short  s, 
;i;iil  tlio  marked  effect  of  the  new  re;jjion  on  our  trade 
iiiid  industries,  filled  others  with  speculative  idi'as. 

Then,  witli  the  opiiiinijj  (;f  the  Nevada  silver  de- 
jiosits,  { anie  re^uhir  i^amhlinjj;  in  mining  stocks  at 
speeiiil  exchang(  s,  in  which  uU  <  lapses  frantically  ]^ar- 
ti(i[tated,  to  the  iiii[ti)Verishnu'nt  (f  thousands,  wh(»se 
iint'stments  and  assessments  disa])peai'ed  into  the 
("tpacious  pockets  of  unscrupulous  mana«^-ers.  luist- 
11 II  men  caui^ht  the;  infection,  which  received  no  small 
stimulus  from  thcj  lluctuations  in  uold  values  durino- 
tlic  war,  and  was  marked  sid)se(|uently  hy  the  trans- 
lilaiitlng  of  western  minint.''  stock  deals  into  thc'ir 
iiililst,  in  fittinijj  association  with  corners,  rings,  trusts, 
iiiid  other  vicious  devices. 

We  pass  laws  to  suppress  gambling  with  cards 
wlieit'  the  chances  are  fair  and  the  »iaine  lionestlv 
(li  alt,  and  call  it  vice,  and  so  it  is;  but  we  not  only 
tiijerate  but  patronize  mannnoth  gaming  establish- 
ments where  the  poor  and  inexperienced  are  regularly 
vi(  timized  by  rich  and  rejtutable  sharpers.  We  aie 
si  locked  to  see  a  man  enter  a  clul)-room  and  lay  his 
iiioiHy  on  a  monte-table,  but  prim  matrons  and 
l)Uiitaiii(al  preachers  and  churchmen  can  bet  with 
rcsjiec-table  impunity  on  what  shall  be  the  value  of 
st()(  ks  er  grain  a  we(  k  or  a  numtli  hence. 

In  the  race  for  wealth  loftier  aspirations  arc  too 
oft(  n  trampled  under  foot,  many  devoting  themselves 
luait  and  soul  throusfhout  life  to  the  fascination  of 
gamhling  and  cheating  within  the  jiale  of  law.  Barrt  n 
ill  all  the  nobler  attributes  of  intellect,  and  in  lieait 
and  feelinij:  fold  as  ice  and  hard  as  stone,  the  souls  of 
UiCf^o  jiG II rrrs  riches:  are  shrivelltsd  to  slag,  their  c<  n- 
scit  noes  utterly  benundjcd.  Selfish  and  unprincipled, 
tliiy  play  upon  the  necessities  of  others,  using  tl c 
power  their  wealth  gives  them  to  increase  its  ah\aeiy 


4-22 


MONFA"  AND   MONOPOLY. 


M 


'■'■' 


enormous  bulk,  by  iinpoverisliiiig  poor  produfMis ; 
by  lying  in  wait  for  opportunities  to  get  sonuthin^ 
for  nothing;  by  regulating  elections  so  as  to  jmt  their 
tools  in  power ;  by  originating  plausible  sehenies  to 
rob  the  peo[)le;  by  inflating  or  breaking  the  stock- 
market  at  pleasure,  so  as  to  gather  at  one  fell  swuop 
the  small  aceunmlations  of  those  thousands  of  sm.illcr 
gamblers  who  are  foolish  enough  to  stake  their  all  uu 
games  beside  which  faro  and  three-card  montc  arc 
honorable  and  fiiir;  by  bribing  assessors  so  that  tlio 
burden  «>f  taxation  shall  fall  on  the  laboring  classes 
and  honest  merchants. 

Whii)ple  says  of  them:  "Such  men  we  occasion- 
ally meet  in  business  life;  nu'n  who  have  not  one 
atom  of  soul,  but  have  sold  the  last  immortal  grain 
of  it  for  hard  cash.  They  have  received  the  millions 
they  desired,  but  have  they  made  a  good  V)argain  ? 
The  ditHculty  with  thi'ircase  comes  from  their  liaviiig 
no  capacity  for  enjoyment  left  after  the  sale.  Coarse, 
callous,  without  sympathy,  without  afiection,  witlmut 
frankness  and  generosity  of  feeling,  dull  even  in  tlirir 
senses,  des|)ising  human  nature,  and  looking  upon 
their  fellow  creatures  simply  as  i>ossible  victims  of 
their  all-grasping  extortion,  it  would  seem  as  tlion^h 
they  had  (h'libci'ately  shutup,  one  byone.allthesouiVL's 
of  enjoyment,  and  had,  coiled  up  hi  their  bnasts,  a 
snake-like  avarice,  which  nmst  eventuall}'  sting  tlinu 
to  death.  Some  men  find  happiness  in  gluttony  and 
in  drunkenness;  but  no  delicate  viands  can  touch  tin  ir 
taste  with  the  thrill  of  pleasure,  and  what  generosity 
there  is  in  wine  steadily  refuses  to  impart  its  glow  to 
their  shrivelh^d  hearts." 

But  pivaching  against  the  passion  has  little  ell!  it. 
Some  worship  wealth  with  greater  intensity  than 
t)thers,  but  all  love  money.  Every  man  thinks  if  he 
had  it  he  could  master  it.  He  is  <iuite  sure  it  would 
not  master  him.  As  the  adage  says  "Qui  uti  scit.  ri 
bona."  To  him  who  knows  how  to  use  them,  richrs 
are  a  blessing;  to  those  who  do  not,  they  are  a  cm  so. 


ri  »ki 


ILL-fiOTTEN  GAINS. 


423 


What  power  of  gold  tliat  can  make  of  liell  a  lieavori, 
or  of  lieaveii  a  hell  1  Whether  a  curse  or  a  blessing 
to  the  possessor  is  of  suuill  moment  as  comi>areil  to 
the  effect  on  the  connnmiity  at  large.  And  this  wc 
know,  that  great  wealth  in  the  hands  of  hulividiuils 
(Idis  not  usually  redound  to  the  greatest  good  of  the 
greatt'st  number. 

ill  the  decay  of  the  republic,  says  Plato,  an  intem- 
jiciate  thirst  for  wealth  and  the  licentiousness  and 
rxtravagance  resulting  therefrom,  breed  in  tlie  statts 
;i  race  of  grasping  misers  and  ruined  spendthrifts. 
The  first  stage  of  decay  is  a  timocracy  marked  by 
iuiihition  and  love  of  gain;  the  second  step  in  its  dv- 
(liiic  and  fall  is  an  oligarchy  "wliere  gold  is  all  pow- 
cit'iil  and  virtue  is  depreciated  ;  and  the  state  becomes 
divided  into  two  hostile  classes,  one  eiiormouslv  rich 
and  tlie  other  miserably  poor;  antl  in  it  paupers  and 
criminals  nmltiply,  and  education  deteriorates." 

In  monopoly  ;)rr  sc  there  may  be  nothing  wrong. 
Tlicre  are  various  kinds  and  ])hases  of  monoj)oly. 
^lono|)oly,  in  and  of  itself,  signifies  simply  exclusive 
ri^lit  or  sole  ownership.  This  sole  possession  or  cx- 
cliisixe  right  to  buy,  sell,  or  enjoy  may  have  been  ob- 
tained honestly  and  exercised  Justly.  The  law  gives 
authors  and  inventors  the  monopoly  of  their  works 
toi-  a  time  that  they  may  secure  ])ropcr  renmneration 
for  th(^ir  labors.  So  if  with  his  own  monev  a  man 
liu\  s  a  right  o^  way  and  builds  a  road  he  may  monop- 
oll/.c  trafKc,  but  he  cannot  rightly  t-mploy  momy  to 
]tirvcnt  other  roads  from  being  made,  or  other  per- 
sons to  engage  in  the  traffic.  It  is  a  swindle  upon 
the  pul)lic  for  a  steand)oat  company  to  ))ay  nu)ney 
ohtain<'(l  from  tlu^  jniblic  to  a  ri\al  craft  in  order  to 
\Xrt  more  fi'om  the  |)ubhc  than  is  fair  for  the  people 
io  pay.  It  is  impossil>Ie  f  >i'  a  monoj)olist  who  stooi)s 
to  any  indirection  to  be  anything  but  a  dishonest  man, 
and  a  curse  to  the  conmiunitv. 

Further  than  this,  the  suddeii  actjuisitiou  of  groat 


«;■ : 


424 


MONEY  AND  MONOPOLY. 


It 


I      mn 


." 


wealth  is  usually  attended  by  fraud.  H(nv  do  presi- 
dents and  directors  of  great  corporations,  beoiiiiii|i<r 
on  nothing,  by  simply  manipulating  other  })e(»p]('s 
money,  so  quickly  make  it  their  own?  Or,  as  the 
Roman  once  more  pointedly  put  it  to  Lucius  Cornelius 
Sylla,  "How  can  you  be  an  honest  man  who,  since 
the  death  of  a  father  who  left  you  nothing,  have  be- 
come so  rich?" 

True,  in  some  instances,  public  benefactions  flow 
from  these  large  accunuilations,  to  the  ap[)lause  of  the 
thouglitless  and  dazzled  masses;  but  as  a  rule  tlie 
greedy  monopolist  hugs  his  ill-gotten  gains  with 
miserlj'  tenacitj^  or  spends  it  in  infamous  ways  fni'  in- 
famous i>urposes.  Even  if  large  sums  are  sometimes 
spent  in  charit}^  or  in  the  erection  of  some  conspicu- 
ous institution  and  benefaction  by  those  who  cannut 
carry  their  wealth  into  the  other  world,  how  much  ef 
thanks  should  be  giv^en  them  by  those  from  whom 
they  fraudulently  oi)tained  this  wealth,  and  m  ho  pt  r- 
adventure  would  prefer  distributing  their  own  uifts 
rather  than  have  it  done  by  robbers?  Then,  too,  we 
n)ight  ask.  How  nmch  restitution  of  stolen  wealtli 
does  it  take  to  condone  the  offence? 

Knowing  themselves  to  be  frauds,  knowing  thnt 
all  UKMi  are  aw'are  of  it,  and  knowing  that  all  nun  will 
bow  down  and  worship  a  Wi'althy  fraud,  such  nun  ( ;iu 
at  least  console  themselves  in  the  reflection  that  how- 
soever they  nuny  rank  in  knavery,  they  an;  envird 
rather  than  desi)ised  bv  the  oreat  maiority  of  tli(  ir 
neighbors.  Yet  there  are  men  in  this  workl  who  will 
not  worship  besotted  wealth.  Let  (^ro-sus  with  his 
ground-out  gains  build  him  a  (ialiana  j)alaee;  let  him 
fill  it  with  rare  and  costly  furnishings,  and  invite  his 
parasites  to  enter  and  eat  with  him  ;  nevertheh  ss,  like 
the  soulh'ss  monster  made  by  Fraid\enstein  out  of  the 
fragnu'iits  of  men  gathered  from  dissecting  tab]«  s  iuifl 
churchyards,  ami  iml)ued  with  life  by  galvanism,  his 
first  consciousness  being  a  longing  for  companionship, 
ho  is  shunned  by  every  true  nian. 


THE  ALLTJREMENTS  OF  WEALTH. 


425 


By  a  lucky  stroke  of  fortune,  not  W  industry,  not 
by  nierit,  not  by  raind,  the  man  of  notliinj^  yesterday 
is  to-day  the  man  of  millions.  Tlie  individual  himself 
is  in  no  v/li  it  changed;  he  is  just  as  ignorant  or  learned, 
ju.-5t  as  stu[»id  or  intelligent,  just  as  vulgar  and  ras- 
c:\]]y,  or  as  refined,  pious,  and  honest  as  befoi'e.  Yet 
some  resplendent  virtue  seems,  hi  the  eyes  of  his  fel- 
lows, suddenly  to  have  taken  possession  of  him,  and 
his  every  movement  is  watched  by  eager  admirers — 
lit  ills  money.  These  doff  their  hats  and  bend  their 
haei:?.  and  ho,  poor  idiot,  thinks  it  to  himself  and  not 
to  his  lucre  the  time-servers  do  obeisance. 

Mind  b<.)\vs  before  money.  Brave,  indeed,  must  be 
the  atr'.r">'<jfles  that  overcome  the  allurcMuentsof  luxui'v, 
the  fjubtle,  sensuous  influence  of  wealth,  entering  as  it 
(Iocs  tilt!  d:)mains  alike  of  intellect  and  the  atl'ections, 
opi^ning  nature,  widening  art,  and  filling  enlarged  ca- 
pacities for  enjoyment.  Yet  he  who  would  attain  the 
highest  must  shake  from  liini  these  entrancing  fetters 
and  stand  forth  absolutely  a  free  man.  I  cannot  but 
chooso  to  say  to  povei'ty,  with  Jean  Paul  Jiichtei-, 
whoso  thoughts  roll  off  in  swells  of  poetry,  "be  wt  1- 
coine.  so  thou  come  not  too  late  in  life.  KicheH\\(igh 
mere  li(>avily  upon  talent  than  poverty.  Under  gold 
uiouiitains  and  thrones  lie  buried  many  s|iiritual 
giants.  WIuMi  to  the  flame  that  the  n;itiiral  beat  of 
youth  kindles  the  oil  of  ricln^s  is  added,  little  more 
than  tlie  ashes  of  the  phaMiix  remains,  and  only  a  (  b>lh 
has  had  the  forbearance  not  to  sin<>e  his  phuenix  wings 
(it  fortune. 

It  is  not  a  pleasing  feature  of  the  existing  condition 
ot  things  for  an  intelligent  and  fair-minded  lre<'man  to 
('(Miteniplati^that  a  few  sellisb  and  grasping  men,  rat- 
ing as  respiM'table  that  is,  as  more  respectable  than 
the  swindlers  whom  the  law  pimishes  are  ever  plot- 
ting to  gain  some  undue  advantage  ovi'r  their  fellows, 
ovei-  tliose  less  cuiming  and  unscrnjtulous  than  th(^m- 
selvi  s.  l?ursuing  the  even  tenor  of  their  way.  |ires- 
cntly  these  citizens  of  sini[>ler  minds  and  more  contented 


m  r 


U\'i 


486 


MONEY  AND  MONOPOLY 


r    I 


hearts  feel  themselves  and  the  whole  community  to 
be  enfolded  in  the  suffocating  grasp  of  some  denum 
monopoly.  They  awake,  perhaps,  to  find  seized  every 
avenue  of  approach  to  the  city,  by  land  or  by  water, 
to  find  every  traveller  and  every  article  of  men  luui- 
dise  that  comes  to  the  country  taxed  to  support  the 
monster,  their  own  monc}'  being  taken,  first  to  make 
rich  the  monopolists,  and  then  to  buy  oti'  legitimate 
coni})etition,  so  that  more  money  may  be  wrt)ngfullv 
extorted  from  them;  to  find  merchants  made  serfs  hv 
tricksters  who  lord  it  more  bravely  than  ever  did 
feudal  baron,  to  the  everlasting  shame  of  those  who 
endure  it. 

It  is  worse  than  the  autocratic  tyrant,  who  perpe- 
trates his  abuses  openly,  while  this  insidiously  att.uks 
us  under  the  guise  of  conferring  benefits,  att;i(  king  us 
indeed  through  the  very  benefactions  bestowed  upon 
it  by  ourselves. 

If  we  must  have  kings  to  rule  over  us,  bettor  feudal 
kings  than  modern  money-kings,  one-eyed  cyclojis 
who  can  see  nothing  but  gold,  and  in  wlu)iii  wiili 
their  retainers,  their  courtiers,  lawyers,  legislators, 
and  judges,  the  interest  of  the  people  are  sunk  in  a 
close  corporation  with  a  one-man  power  for  its  center, 
and  for  whose  sole  benefit  the  property  is 
manipulated. 

My  friend  Charles  Nordhoff  sends  me  his  little  hook 
Politics  For  YotDiff  Americans.  I  open  it  and  read: 
"Napoleon  III.  lield  France  by  the  throat  for  ei-li- 
teen  years,  and  all  the  meaner  sort  of  mankind  glori- 
fied him  as  the  wisest  of  rulers."  This  is  the  tniie  wo 
love  to  assume  in  teaching  our  children,  in  conipaiing 
our  government  with  tJiat  of  other  nations.  N" 
wonder  we  are  jiuffed  up  and  ignorant.  When  I  look 
upon  the  prostitution  of  princi])les  in  my  own  d  tin- 
try  ;  when  I  smell  the  rank  corruption  of  our  legisla- 
tive assemblies  and  municipal  halls,  when  I  sn  vil- 
lainy, in  the  similitude  of  nien,  bought  and  sold  as  in 
the   rankest  days  of  licentious   Home,   when  I  aee 


I  3  , 


WAN"! ED,  BETTER  GOVERNMENT. 


427 


disease  creopii]<:r  toward  the  vitals  of  this  intellectually 
vcimg  and  stron<^  coniinonwealth,  and  thousands  of 
i»l;i(k  African  and  parasitical  European  patriots  with 
tlirir  vile  leaders  feeding"  the  plas^ue  instead  of  stop- 
|)iii'4  it,  then  I  must  confess,  with  no  small  thanks 
for  tlie  enlightenment  acquired,  that  I  am  one  of  the 
imaiKT  sort  who  prefer  honest  despotism  to  rotten 
ivpuhhcanism. 

^len  have  always  depended  too  nmch  on  govern- 
ment and  too  little  on  themselves.  Settinjjf  up  judge, 
g()\crnor,  and  legislu^ure,  they  call  upon  these  crea- 
turt  s  of  their  own  creating  as  on  gods,  begging  to  be 
delivered  from  wrath  of  every  kind.  Looking  upon 
our  legislators  and  our  governors,  and  knowing  noth- 
ing of  the  gifts  of  gold  so  freely  passed  to  them  by 
tlio.se  who  would  buy  justice  or  injustice,  both  of 
which  are  always  for  sale,  we  feel  with  Oxenstierna 
when  lie  exclaimed,  "  See,  my  son,  by  how  little 
wisdom  we  are  governed  1" 

What  we  want  is  more  of  the  old-fashioned  despot- 
ism ;  not  the  desp)tism  of  the  mob,  or  of  mono}',  but 
of  tlie  despotism  which  punishes  rabble  outbreaks,  and 
bribery,  tlie  despotism  which  hangs  ini(|uitous  mo- 
nopolists and  unjust  judges ;  for  when  tlie  cohesive 
t'oivo  of  des[)otisni  is  absent  from  the  government,  and 
the  cohesive  force  of  virtue  is  lacking  in  the  people, 
beware  of  trouble.  We  may  be  very  sure,  that  with- 
out intelligence  and  morality,  despotism  or  anarchy 
are  inevitable,  and  of  the  two  I  prefer  the  former. 

Nevertheless,  monopoly  is  too  prominent  a  feature 
of  that  selfishness  which  forms  the  chief  motive  for 
our  actions,  and  consequently  for  progress,  to  be  ut- 
terly decried.  It  is  condenmed  nurely  hi  the  abuse, 
es|)t>pially  as  manifestetl  by  soulless  rorj)oi'ations — 
soidless  in  their  acts  as  well  as  in  the  sense  of  Chief 
Justice  Manwood's  demonstrati<,>n  that  God  alone 
I'l'eates  souls,  not  ])olitical  authorities  to  whom  cor- 
puiatioua  owe  exiateuee.     Abuse  began  with  the  very 


r|f 


428 


MONEY  AND  MONO  POLY. 


first  strife  in  tlie  cliaso  between  savage  men,  wIku 
the  winner  secured  for  himself  tlie  entire  body  of  the 
larger  proportion.  It  assumed  magnitude  with  inva- 
sion and  conquest,  wlien  tlie  source  for  wealth  .liid 
subsistence  was  seized  upon  in  the  land,  which  in  it- 
self was  an  enslavement  of  the  inhabitants. 

Tlu!  ini(juitous  monopoly  is  evidently  objectionaMr 
in  every  respect,  while  the  just  and  legitimate  s|k'- 
cies  inijilies  a  bargain  of  one  favor  for  another.  ;i 
reward  for  benefits  received  or  to  be  conftiicd. 
The  strongest  illustration  hereof  a[)j)ears  in  })ati  nts, 
wiiich  grant  to  the  inventor  the  sole  control  of  his 
idea  or  machine  for  a  term,  as  compensation  i'nr 
sharing  their  advantages  with  the  j)ublic.  Similar 
benefits  are  expected  from  charters  conceded  lor  rail- 
ways, manufactures,  and  other  commercial  and  imlus- 
trial  ])urposes.  But  for  the  ex[>ecte(l  blessings  to  ilow 
therefrom  they  would  not  be  allowed  to  spring  iiitn 
existence  ;  for  the  attendant  evil,  aside  from  the  exar- 
tion  of  the  reward  or  price,  is  signified  by  the  stii>ula- 
tioiis,  es[)ecially  as  to  term  of  life,  wliich  vaiiis  ac- 
cording to  the  magnitudi^  of  the  concession.  .\ 
patent  endures  ft)r  only  a  few  years,  l)ut  the  jtitcf  uf 
land  is  given  in  ])erpetuity,  in  return  for  sett](  nunt 
and  cultivation,  while  the  railwav  charter  embraco 
Certain  facilities  which  yiehl  to  tlie  holdi^rs  a  mo- 
nopoly de[)endent  on  circumstances.  Long  before  t!.' 
ex[)iration  of  the  terms,  the  impatit;nt  })ubhe,  wiih 
poor  memory  for  past  favors,  begins  to  growl  at  the 
exclusiveness  and  the  conse(iueiit  n^striction  or  burtlin 
on  itself,  and  tliis  becomes  louder  as  the  h(»lders.  hy 
meansoftheu'[)rerogativesaiid  ac(juired  strength,  sn  k 
to  extend  and  ]>rolong  their  })ower,  or  take  additi'nal 
or  undue  advantages.  The  nmrmur  should  b<'  ecjually 
diriH-ted  against  the  king  or  <;overmnent  or  svstcia 
which  make  concessions  without  due  foresight  as  t* 
equivalents  and  results. 

Monopoly  has  borrowed  its  main  strength  from  tlie 
organization  and  cooperation  which  form  such  inqxni  tut 


ORIGIN    AX])  DEVELOPMKNT. 


429 


factors  in  civilization.  Its  nfrowtli  indeed  lias  been 
;i]»:i(f  with  proirrchS,  and  with  the  expansion  of  fVeo- 
(I  nil.  The  success  of  man  in  shakins;'  ofi' political  des- 
|)  it  ism  and  attaining'  to  greater  liberty  of  thought  and 
action,  has  brought  to  the  surface  or  intensified  a 
mniihcr  of  hitherto  suppressed  evils — the  usual  I'esult 
of  all  experiments,  as  the  re})ublic  still  is  in  a  measure, 
and  as  tlie  present  industrial  development  is  in  |>artic- 
ular.  with  novel  steam-})ower,  machinerv,and  railways, 
whicli  form  the  great  im})lcments  for  monopoly.  Vn- 
(Ici-  a  despotic  government  such  outcrop}»iiig  isn^adily 
cliccked;  but  in  overthrowing  the  })olitical  autocrat 
and  distributing  his  ijrerocj-atives  anion*;  themselves, 
tlie  people  gave  power  to  this  and  other  obnexious 
cKiiieiits.  Instead  of  one  tvrant  rose  nianv.  !Midst 
tlic  scramble  for  position  and  wealth  the  strong  and 
tlic  supple  elbow<Hl  their  way  forward,  pushing  the 
weaker  to  the  wall.  '^Fhe  very  privileges  vested  in 
tlii'ui  for  the  general  welfare  they  diverted  to  their 
own  jiurposes. 

The  faculty  to  associate  for  the  achievement  of 
;j,ivat  enterprises,  which  must  have  had  its  greatest 
i'lipulse  in  the  need  for  protection,  especially  against 
hdstile  neighbors,  was  particularly  well  developed 
aiiiniig  tlie  Aryans,  nourished  by  their  system  of 
kiiisliip.  property-holding,  and  ado])ti(m  of  new  meni- 
It'is,  Tiie  practical  Ilonian  attained  to  preeminence 
ill  this  respt'ct.  The  collegium  rose  as  the  ar- 
tificial substitute  for  the  Arvan  liousehohl,  to  unite 
religious  and  political  bodies,  commercial  and  indus- 
tiial,  social  and  benevolent.  Tlie  most  useful  forms 
iif  it  were  adaptations  of  Punic  institutions,  notably 
fi'nin  Carthage,  which  in  itself  jiresents  a  jirototype 
f  11'  tlie  h'.ter  India  comitanies  of  Dutch  and  J'^nglish. 
Ill  tlie  universities  wo  behold  a  corporation  of  corpor- 
atimis,  of  which  the  Christian  church  exhibited  in  due 
time  tlu!  nicest  extensive  consolidation,  with  sjiiritual, 
so(  ial.  and  material  aims. 

Among  the  early  Teutons  the  facilities  for  combi- 


Uu 


430 


MONEY  AXT)  MOXOPOLY, 


nation  were  inferior,  partly  from  their  scattered  cnntli- 
tion,  with  little  concentration  in  towns.  I'latU'. 
nevertheless,  asserted  its  intluence  in  this  dircdion, 
and  with  the  growing  abnormities  of  feudal  tiims, 
merchants  and  artisans  were  obliged  to  elaborate  the 
guild  for  the  protection  especially  of  labor,  and  m  itli 
regulations  of  prices  as  well  as  methods  and  aj>[»ivii- 
ticeship,  and  social  and  charitable  perfonnances.  in 
Englajid  it  assumed  formal  shape  only  after  theXdi- 
maii  invasion,  althougli  based  on  Saxon  customs.  In 
France  the  Roman  model  prevailed,  and  here  ntci- 
cliant?  early  separated  into  a  distinct  class  from  that 
of  crafts  or  metiers,  with  their  grades  of  petty  masti  is. 
companions  or  journeymen,  and  api)rentices.  K.iily 
monopolies  wore  almost  always  beneficial. 

Itc'cognizing  these  corporations  in  a  measure  as  tlic 
stomach  of  the  body  social  for  the  employment  of  es- 
pecially skilled  labor  in  the  transmutation  of  raw  laluir 
and  raw  resources  or  capital  into  new  forms,  sovd- 
eigns  found  it  to  their  interest  to  favor  them,  partly  with 
a  view  to  reduce  the  power  of  the  nobility ;  so  guilds  and 
barons  were  pitted  against  each  other.  The  foinif r, 
as  a  fulcrum  for  the  autocratic  lever,  received  a  num- 
ber of  privilegts,  notably  for  municipal  governiiunt. 
The  Germanic  independence  of  cliaracter  whi(  h  as- 
serted itself  in  the  strife  for  a  share  in  sovereiuiitv 
and  administration  by  nobles  and  comnKmers,  lords, 
and  tribes,  and  nmnicipalities,  stood  manifest  in  the 
socio-political  nature  of  the  guilds,  on  which,  in(h  ( d, 
local  administration  mainly  rested,  guided  by  uuild 
laws.  Sometimes  a  merchant  guild  alone  held  sway. 
The  parish  corporations  of  England  display  tlie  ivIks 
of  the  svstem. 

At  one  time  all  classes  were  embraced  therein,  Loii- 
don,  for  instance,  conferring  the  full  eniovment  of  cit- 
izcnsliip  only  on  members.  In  China  the  system  ot 
associations  is  widely  diffused  amonoj  all  social  branches, 
but  with  a  slavish  conformity  to  habit  rather  than 
to  utility,  while  the  latter  motive  forms  the  chief  in- 


MATERIALIZATION  OF  INDUSTRY. 


431 


centive  among  Americans,  who  rank  as  the  foremost 
practical  organizers. 

( )i'gaiiizatiou  and  cooperation  have  been  great  levers 
(if  progress,  for  elevating  the  masses,  yet  their  very 
success  breeds  elements  of  corruption.  The  leading 
bodies  ill  a  certain  branch,  incited  by  greed  and  am- 
bition, seek  to  crush  minor  competitors;  others  grow 
exclusive,  and  render  admission  ditficult  for  apprentices. 
Ill  other  cases  more  prosperous  and  shrewder  mend)ers 
will  Ml)S!)rb  the  shares  t)r  influence  of  others,  and  with 
grnwitig  strength  oust  obnoxious  partners  bv  means 
of  assiissnients,  mani|)ulations,  and  other  trickery. 
When  the  successors  of  Charlemagne  united  state  and 
church  to  crush  the  peasantry,  the  towns'  guilds  were 
implored  to  aid  their  brethren.  They  selfishly  re- 
fused, and  looked  calmlv  on,  confidini;  in  stroii*::  walls 
f)r  their  own  safety.  Similar  was  the  attitude  of 
the  burghers  and  craftsmen  of  England.  These 
classes,  indeed,  joined  in  o[)[)ressing  the  classes  below 
thorn.  In  this  manner  were  developed  the  objection- 
aijle  features  of  the  manse  organization,  wheieliy 
barons  and  abbots  reduced  so  large  a  })roportion  of  the 
peasantry  to  a  servile  condition,  with  ti'o  aid  of  a  war 
corporation  of  knightly  adherents,  while  in  the  towns 
the  guild  loaders  unfolded  into  a  nioneyed  ailf'tocracy, 
which  was  courted  to  sustain  the  other  wing  of  state 
and  church. 

The  invention  of  tlie  steam-engine,  and  its  vast 
train  of  novel  machinery  for  all  braiudies  of  in^lustry 
ai'.il  trade,  proved  the  means  for  cheapening  food,  for 
iiicr(\asing  creature  comr>rts,  for  opening  fresh  and 
readier  outlets  for  a  surplus  population,  for  elevating 
intei't'ourso,  and  other  benefits  <'alculated  espoclally  to 
improve  the  condition  of  the  masses.  Nev^-rthtdcss, 
out.  of  these  very  blessings  capital  snatched  its  strong- 
est moans  for  oppression.  Instead  of  l)ett3'  masters 
working  at  home  with  their  small  band  of  journey- 
men and  apprentices,  as  in  wt^aving,  laboi-saving 
machinery  called  for  united  operations  at  ouc  locality. 


;=, 


•li:  I 


iiiiili 


19 


U\' 


it 


432 


MONHV  AND  MONOrOLY. 


Factoi-'ics  were  oroctetl  wltli  Ji  lar^^'o  plant  roquiiiii'j; 
capital;  ricli  men  and  corporations  conic  into  control  df 
ent('r|)rist'S  Jiitlierto  tliviilcd  among  a  larj^c  number  of 
small  bodies  or  individuals,  and  petty  niasters  \V(  re 
reduced  to  wa;^c-workcrs.  ]\racl)inery  tendcti,  nioiv- 
over,  to  a  wider  subdivision  of  labor,  wherein  lay  botli 
economy  and  perfection,  but  it  also  made  factory  liands 
more  helpless  and  de[)endent  on  their  employcis. 
Econonu'  in  workin«j:  and  cheai)noss  of  results  Ix  iuir 
usually  in  proportion  to  the  magnitude  of  ojniatiotis, 
mono[)oly  was  hereby  fostered  by  forcing  minoi-  and 
weaker  establishments  from  the  field.  Iniproxcd 
conmiunication  lent  its  aid  to  extend  the  influence  of 
the  larger  concerns  to  remote  localities.  In  trade, 
likcnvise,  the  larger  sh(»ps  undermined  the  small  .>^liop- 
kecper  by  cconctmy  of  service  and  by  otlbnng  a  greater 
,  varietv  of  tjoods. 

Comix'tition  and  overstocked  markets  give  em- 
ployers frequently  no  alternative  save  to  reduce  wa^es 
or  suspend  work,  and  the  existence  of  a  small  body  of 
idle  men  in  a  town  suffices  by  the  consc(|uent  demand 
for  emiilovment  to  lower  the  earnings  of  entire  classes. 
In  both  cases  the  blame  for  the  reductiim  lies  maiidy 
with  the  laborers,  who  crowd  into  cities  and  oiler 
themselves  as  willing  tools  to  capital,  instead  of  striv- 
ing, in  America  at  least,  to  build  up  their  fortunes 
iu  the  country.  The  prospect  of  temporary  hardship 
re)iels  most  of  them,  and  improvidence  tends  to  dis- 
able them. 

The  wielding  of  power  is  too  enticing  to  be  resisted 
by  the  employer,  and  shielded  from  public  ga/.e  or 
personal  responsibility  by  the  mask  of  corporation,  and 
by  the  paid  manager,  his  scruples  readily  vanish  before 
the  visions  of  enrichment. 

The  ctmscience  of  a  corporation  is  remarkable  only 
for  its  absence ;  where  such  a  thing  as  a  corpoiate 
conscience  exists  at  all  it  is  extremely  callous.  Tlie 
individuality  which  loses  itself  in  the  body  coriH>ratc 


LACK  OF  HONOR  AND  rRINCIPLE. 


433 


does  not  scruple  to  receive  the  cruelly  or  illicitly 
extol  t(;d  gains  of  the  corporation. 

Here  is  their  creed.  Let  your  watchword  be 
exi)t'diency.  Policy  is  the  best  honesty.  Strict  in- 
ti;j,rity  does  not  pay;  a  little  of  it,  mixed  witli  policy 
\\\\\  suffice  as  leaven  for  a  large  loaf  of  appearance, 
wliicli  may  be  fed  to  those  from  whom  favors  are 
(1(  sired.  Thus  credit  may  be  established,  and  credit 
is  money — especially  where  one  can  cheat  one's  credi- 
tors without  too  nmch  damage  to  reputation.  In 
[)riii(iples,  winding  cross- paths,  though  longer  than 
^iiai-lit  ones,  arc  safer  and  more  attractive,  and 
liciicu  in  reality  are  the  shorter.  Love  yourself;  hate 
your  enemies;  let  neither  friends  nor  sentiment  stand 
in  tlie  way  of  success.  Keep  within  the  pale  of  the 
law;  forgive  your  creditors.  Finally,  clothe  your 
liiisheliavior  insanetiniouious  garb,  and  thus  be  happy 
iiiid  virtuous. 

Siicli  are  the  principles  by  which  corporations  allow 
tlioinselves  to  be  guided  in  extortion  and  nefarious 
transactions.  Employes  are  oppressed,  the  public  de- 
frauded, and  the  authorities  hoodwinked.  Legisla- 
tors are  bribed  to  promote  or  cover  up  their  schemes; 
rivals  arc  absorbed  or  subsidized  to  neutrality  ;  em- 
ployes are  subjected  to  coercion.  Combinations  and 
corners,  trusts  and  other  iniquities  are  imposed  upon 
the  helpless  masses.  In  one  instance  outlets  and 
means  of  comnmnication  will  be  closed  or  obstructed 
to  check  the  competition  of  rivals,  as  in  the  infamous 
taeties  of  the  notorious  eastern  oil  company;  in  an- 
otli<  r,  access  to  raw  resources  or  finished  material  will 
be  impeded  by  lease  or  purchase,  without  intention  to 
utilize  them  until  the  holder  finds  it  convenient.  In 
this  way  salt  and  coal  fields  have  been  taken  up  and 
kept  closed  for  the  benefit  of  a  few  firms  in  distant 
states ;  small  stock-raisers  have  been  cut  t)ff  from 
water  as  well  as  markets ;  and  so  with  other  branches 
of  industry.  The  absorption  of  competitors  is  con- 
stantly  illustrated    by  railway,  steamer,   stage,  and 

Essays  and  Miscsllanv       28 


434 


MONEY  AND  MONOPOLY. 


;:ifi   i: 


i^l  'i 


tolcgrapli  rompanioa.  Combinations  of  difFcront  firms 
in  a  trade,  for  sustainin<^  prices  and  taxing  tliu  pcoplr, 
are  no  loss  frtMjuent,  and  are  even  formed  in  opru 
conventions.  Tlic  modern  '  trusts' find  it  i»ro(italil(,' 
to  pension  into  idleness  a  number  of  mine  and  factoiv 
owners  out  of  the  gains  extorted  from  the  trade.  In 
this  manner  may  bo  extended  the  list  of  gigaiiti(; 
frauds  practised  upon  the  [)ublic. 

Unless  restriction  is  imposed,  none  can  tell  Avhoc; 
monopoly  impositions  may  stop.  They  extend  imt 
alone  over  all  industrial  and  commercial  cnteritiisc, 
but  to  the  surface  and  bowels  of  land  and  sea,  and 
may  embrace  the  very  atmosphere  and  suidighl,  ns 
illustrated  by  Congressman  Phillips  in  an  oriental 
story.  A  speculator  applied  to  a  monarch  for  a  lease 
of  the  wind  within  his  domains.  This  was  granted, 
much  to  the  amusement  of  the  people.  The  lau^li 
was  soon  turned  against  them  whc>n  a  notice  appeait  1 
forbidding  the  use  of  the  breezes  for  navigatien, 
windmills,  winnowing,  and  other  purposes,  ex(e|it 
under  license  or  sub-lca.se,  in  accordance  witli  the 
contract.  A  general  murmur  ensued,  followed  l)y 
appeals  for  a  revocation  of  the  absurd  lease.  The 
speculator  entered  a  counter-protest  against  a  repeal 
without  due  compensation  for  his  expenses  and  pres- 
pective  profits,  as  an  infringement  on  one  of  tlie 
dearest  privileges  of  man,  pro[)erty  rights.  The  sov- 
ereign recognized  the  validity  of  the  objection.  Yet, 
as  it  did  not  answer  to  drive  the  people  to  desperatt^ 
measures,  a  tax  was  levied  to  buy  off  the  claimant, 
or  rather  to  swell  the  royal  purse. 

Aware  of  the  indignation  that  would  fall  upon  tlinn 
if  their  transactions  were  made  public,  many  corjieia- 
tions  keep  secret  their  real  accounts,  and  make  reperts 
to  suit  their  purposes.  Few  iniquitous  .schemes  could 
be  floated  without  such  precautionary  deccjifinn. 
What  a  host  of  mining  and  other  companies  li.ive 
drained  the  pockets  of  dupes  through  their  fictiuiisl 


RKillT.S  OF  THE  rKOPLEJ. 


■jns 


Society  has  a  riglit  to  invcstiLjato  all  oonrorns  wliicli 
jitltot  its  wtjll-ljoiiii;.  This  iiultiuU  is  ai)|)H('(l  hy  the 
j^niiitiii;^^  of  fliartcrs  aiul  hcciiHcs  for  railway.s,  tclo- 
i>;i;i[)lii^,  l)anks,  insurance!  coiiipjinics,  inaiiufartui'i's, 
and  other  industrial  purposes,  as  well  as  for  trades- 
unions,  military,  fraternal  and  henevolent  assoeiations. 
Till!  rii^lits  and  duties  of  corporations,  whoso  ohjectit 
is  to  ht'stow  the  character  and  prope-rties  of  individu- 
ality on  a  changing  hody  of  men,  arc  by  this  charter 
rcstiictcd  to  the  pur[)oses  for  which  they  were  for- 
mally organizx'd.  Tliey  may  conduct  o[)e'ratioiis  uiuler 
tlieii-  own  })roclaimed  hy-laws,  hut  as  creatures  of  tho 
j^nvernment  tluy  remain  suhject  to  its  laws,  and  may 
l)e  restricted  or  tlissolved  when  found  injurious  to 
jiiililic  weal,  or  when  fiiiling  to  fulfil  the  obligations 
assumed. 

iiailway  companies  present  the  most  conspicuous 
form  of  incor})oration  in  the  United  States  for  public 
lieiiefit,  but  they  have  too  often  proved  vam})ires  as 
Well.  The  value  of  railwavs  stands  demonstrated  in 
tlie  building  up  of  states  and  cities,  as  the  main  chan- 
iK  Is  of  interior  traffic,  cheapening  food  on  one  side  and 
el"  ningavenuesforcnrichment  on  the  other,and  asthe 
Urcat  medium  for  beneficial  intercourse.  Tliev  wcto 
cliaitered  to  construct  a  public  highway  and  to  act  as 
paMic  carriers,  and  so  high  an  estimate  was  })laced  upon 
tlie  advantages  thereby  to  accrue  to  the  people  that  the 
;j;uvirnment  gave  not  alone  liberal  land  grants  but  oc- 
casionally advanced  money  wherewith  to  aid  the  con- 
sti'uction,  w'hilc  states,  counties,  and  towns  each 
('eiitril)uted  funds  and  lots.  In  many  cases  the  money 
tlius  obtained  sufficed  to  build  the  road,  so  that  tbe 
ceiupany  witliont  any  real  outlay  came  into  the  pos- 
session of  innnensc  tracts  of  land  and  a  valuable  bu-i- 
ness,  both  rapidly  increasinsjc  in  revenue. 

Aot  content  with  such  easy  acquisition,  such  iiui- 
iiificent  rewards,  the  managers,  once  in  possession, 
turn  alike  on  immediate  associates  and  on  the  pub- 
lic, to  plunder  friends  and  patrons  cither  by  insidious 


^i.  i 


436 


MONEY  AND  MONOPOLY. 


manipulations  or  brazon  trickery  and  extortion.  To 
this  pernicious  end  is  used  the  very  money  and 
po\v(>r  entrusted  to  them  for  individual  and  gciu  ral 
benefit. 

Both  public  and  private  morality  liave  been  ruth- 
lessly trodden  under  foot  by  these  unscrupulous  iiirii. 
The  risinj^  generation  is  taught  tliat  any  rascalitv 
short  of  that  which  reaches  the  prison-cell  or  the  lian;^'- 
man's  rope,  may  pro})erly  be  resorted  to  in  order  to 
insure  success.  Truth,  honor,  honesty,  morality,  fair- 
mindedness,  and  good  citizenship,  are  obsolete  terms, 
not  to  be  employed  by  men  in  life's  battle,  but  fit 
only  for  the  nursery  and  the  Sundaj'-school.  Tlius  is 
iniquity  sown  broadcast  throughout  the  land. 

]-}efore  the  great  modern  development  in  railway- 
huilding  there  were  few  of  those  stujiendous  frauds  in 
manipulation  and  management  so  comn\on  afterwaid. 
Tile  encn^nous  wealth  rolled  up  by  government  suli- 
sidy,  stock  inflation,  and  discrimination,  arousi d  ef 
eourse  the  cupidity  of  imitators.  All  over  the  land, 
not  oidy  in  railroads  but  in  all  kinds  of  business,  there 
was  a  universal  decline  in  commercial  morals. 

It  is  well  known  that  many  roads  have  hem 
built  by  construction  companies,  on  the  credit  nio- 
bilier  plan,  upon  a  nominal  investment,  the  grentcr 
portion  of  the  shares  being  distributed  as  dividends. 
Of  the  capitalization  of  these  roads,  not  (me  dollar  in 
ten  representetl  actual  investment.  Sometimes  all 
the  resources  of  the  company  were  protected  by  tlie 
builders,  who  made  ccmstruction  contracts  withtluin- 
selvcs  at  three  times  the  actual  cost.  And  when  tlio 
road  was  thus  finished  tluy  would  continue  the  same 
course,  bleeding  the  public  and  leaving  the  govern- 
ment to  pay  their  dcd)ts. 

Such  dealings  with  a  government  whicli  had  loaned 
tliem  the  money  with  which  to  build  the  road,  and  with 
the  people,  can  be  designated  but  by  one  word  swin- 
dling. The  government  debt  from  year  to  year  they 
would  sometimes  alter  and  manipulate  in  congres;s, 


CORRUPTION   AND  FRAUD. 


437 


ivadiii^  their  agrceiiieiits,  pockutiiig  everything,  pay- 
ing little  or  nothing,  and  never  intending  from  the 
first  to  pa}'  a  dollar  out  of  the  ample  dividends  on  the 
roads  which  cost  them  nothing.  We  teach  our  chil- 
dren that  he  who  borrows  without  reasonable  })rosiiects 
(if  repayment,  borrows  dishonestly  ;  how,  then,  is  it 
with  those  who  borrow  with  the  deliberate  intention 
of  never  paying  ? 

Corruption  and  s[»oliation  attend  almost  every  meas- 
ure of  such  comi)anies.  Congressmen  are  bribed  to 
(ililain  valuable  com-essions  from  the  general  u'overn- 
lueiit;  local  legislators  and  lesser  ofiicials  are  enlisted 
ill  like  manner  to  beguile  states,  counties,  and  towns 
with  delusive  j)romises;  all  this  tending  to  gild  the 
hait  held  out  to  the  general  public.  Then,  in  conmc- 
tioii  with  the  fraudulent  construction  conti'acts  by  the 
managers  with  themselves,  additional  debts  are  accu- 
mulated to  pass  straight  into  the  pockets  of  the  con- 
tinuing cli(pio.  This  is  a  good  opportunity  to  fright- 
en undesirable  shareholders,  and  force  them  to  sill 
really  valuable  stock  at  a  discount;  or,  as  hap[>ens 
ill  some  cases,  to  sell  out  to  a  confiding  })ul>lic  before 
it  becomes  aware  of  the  depreciated  character  of  the 
paper,  and  then  probably  purchase  at  ruinous  rates 
for  further  manijtulation.  WateM-ed  and  other  fictitious 
stock  facilitate  subsc!(juc!nt  speculation,  cover  up  du- 
bious transai'tions,  and  pi'ovide  a  [)lausible  excuse  for 
the  iii'xt  raid  on  the  public,  iu  the  shape  of  exorbi- 
tant rates. 

Ill  this  kind  of  railway  buihling,  however,  tlie  peo- 
ple, stu[)id  and  long-sutfering  as  they  are,  do  in  time 
begin  to  fi'cl  that  the  roads  which  their  money  have 
constructed  are  not  operated  in  their  interest,  but  in 
the  interest  of  the  agents  with  whom  they  had  en- 
trusted their  funds.  Taritl's  of  fares  and  freights  are 
established,  based,  not  on  the  cost  of  traniiortation, 
liut  on  the  amount  that  pas.senger  traffic  and  the  fVeigJit 
on  each  article  will  bear  without  rulhig  the  same  en- 
tirely oif  their  lines. 


438 


MONEY  AND  MONOPOLY. 


ii 


.il', 


Remote  regions,  where  tliere  can  be  no  compctitinn, 
are  left  entirely  at  the  mercy  of  the  managers,  wliile 
districts  accessible  to  other  njatls,  or  near  watt>r  routes, 
secure  transportation  at  rates  which  seem  ban  ly  to 
pay  expenses.  Discrimination  is  also  shown  toward 
[tcrsons  and  [)laces  from  which  the  managers  i'N|H(t 
other  advantages.  Corporations  follow  a  similar 
])ractic{!  against  interior  manufacturers  in  order  to  re- 
strict their  operations,  or  kill  incipient  industries,  so 
tliat  the  traffic  of  the  road  may  not  be  injured  by  such 
local  sources  of  supply.  Nor  do  they  hesitate  to  re- 
sort to  persecution  where  their  profits  or  feelings  arc 
concerned.  Has  any  town  or  individual  offeiuhd,  woo 
be  to  them;  the  town  shall  be  passed  by  and  another 
built  in  its  place;  the  individual  sliall  be  crushed. 

Since  the  first  days  of  the  republic  there  has  hem 
no  such  iniquity  attempted  by  one  class  of  citi/c  iis 
against  another,  no  such  indignity  endured  b}-  a  frei .  iii- 
tclHgent  people,  pretending  to  independence  and  self- 
government.  It  is  an  insult  and  an  outrage  uiion  a 
city  (»r  a  country,  upon  tlie  merchants,  maimfaeturers, 
and  consumers  thereof,  upon  all  the  people  wlio  aic 
thus  placed  under  tribute,  to  pay  an  unjust  ta\  on 
every  ai'tide  of  ch'css,  every  mouthful  of  food,  eveiy 
thing  that  is  bouglit,  s.)ld,  or  used. 

Competition  might  remedy  many  of  the  evils,  hut 
it  is  tht;  special  policy  of  such  railway  management  to 
prevent  competition  ])y  combinations  and  pools,  with 
the  s[)ecial  object  of  }>utting  under  foot  all  the  laws 
of  traile.  To  this  end  the  assets  of  the  coi'poration 
are  freelv  used  in  buvinga  controllinu:  interest  in  rival 
lines,  and  then  absorbing  their  traffic,  often  to  the 
destruction  of  districts  which  had  sprung  into  existi  iiee 
uiuhn'  the  early  favoring  auspices  of  these  roails. 
Janu's  F.  Hudson  characterizes  the  **|)olicy  of  Imyii;;^ 
up  or  bringing  competing  roads  to  an  agreement, '  as 
th(^  "perfection  of  tyranny." 

It  is  claimed  that  the  iiooling  system  carries  advan- 
tages to  the  public  in  improved  service.     And  further, 


THE  POOLING  POLICY. 


480 


sav!^  the  railway  manager,  have  we  not  the  same  right 
as  the  merchant  to  aehv  advantages  and  opportunities, 
and  to  charge  one  customer  one  price  and  anotlier 
customer  another  price  i  Decidedly  not.  A  private 
iiK  icliant  is  not  a  public  carrier.  But  were  it  so  that 
tli((  tliscriminations  of  the  merchant  affected  tlu!  riijjhts 
and  welfare  of  a  community  to  as  great  an  extent  as 
tliat  t)f  a  feudal  baron,  then  such  merchant  should  be 
put  down,  even  as  the  feudal  baron  was  long  ago  put 
(litwn.  The  public  benefit  derived  from  ])ooling  is 
o;:j,lit  as  compared  with  the  abuses  which   it  covers. 

Xo  one  denies  the  right  of  ]»ersons  to  build  railways 
with  their  own  money,  over  lands  fairly  bought  from 
the  owners,  and  to  charge  what  they  choose;  but  it  is 
a  moral,  and  should  be  a  legal,  crime  to  interfere  with 
others  who  likewise  desire  to  do  business  in  the  same 
.scctiitn  ;  it  is  a  moral,  and  should  be  a  legal,  crime  for 
the  lailways  to  bribe  trans[)ortation  companies  or  other 
competitors  to  charge  advance  rates  in  freight  so  as 
to  f  )ree  from  the  peojtle  illicit  gains. 

On  the  occasion  of  collisions  between  capital  and 
labor,  railroad  men  complain  of  secret,  oath-bound 
oiL;unizations,  under  despotic  officers,  refusing  to  work 
tlii'uiselves  and  ])reventing  others  fronj  doing  so,  even 
ri'sorting  to  violence  and  nmrder  when  so  ordered. 
It  is  an  absolutism  in  a  re|)ublie,  they  say,  which  seeks 
to  coiiti'ol  l)ot]i  ca])ital  and  labor.  This  seems  to  be 
tlie  position  of  the  railroads  as  wc>ll — absolutism,  and 
not  only  the  control  cl  ca[)ital  and  labor,  but  the  con- 
trol of  all  traffic,  of  all  commerce  and  manufactures, 
of  all  rights  of  way,  avenues  of  business,  and  liberties 
and  rights  of  man. 

"  Xo  one  denies  the  right  of  the  laborer  to  cease 
Work,"  continue  tluse  railway  logicians,  "when  ti'rms 
aiv  not  satisfactory,  but  it  is  a  moral,  and  should  be  a 
le;4al,  crime  to  interfere  with  otiiers  who  desire  to 
woik.  The  use  of  force  or  other  wrongful  act  to  pre- 
vent the  earning  of  ])ro|UMty  iloes  not  differ  in  juinci- 
I'le  from  the  forcible  taking   of  prt)perty."     This  is 


I 


\n 


440 


MONKY   AND  ^fONOrOLY. 


! 


I  J  1 

»,   \h 

1 

,t  f^ 

t 

\ 

MiK    1 

^"T  ^ » 

VL  I 

•i 

very  true,  and  applies  adinirably  to  tlic  position  tiilci  !i 
by  the  railroad  men  in  the  nianageincut  of  railroads. 

If  the  people  call  upon  the  authorities  to  rtdrcss 
the  evil,  the  railway  magnates  laugh  their  clKnts 
equally  to  scorn.  Not  only  are  public  and  private 
rights  made  subordinate  to  railway  influence,  Im.t 
honesty  and  morality  are  thrown  to  the  winds. 
Bribery  and  corruption  are  openly  and  unblusliiu'dv 
practised.  All  over  the  United  States  these  manipu- 
lators seem  to  have  no  moral  sense ;  they  profess  to 
have  none;  they  glory  in  havhig  none.  They  (ip<Mi]y 
boast  tliat  when  they  want  a  legislature  they  buy  it. 
When  they  want  a  judge  they  buy  him.  If  a  com- 
mission be  appointed  to  investigate  or  regulate  llicir 
acts,  they  buy  it.  And  as  their  wealth  and  power 
increase,  the  cheaper  becomes  the  price  of  officials,  cf 
public  morality  and  private  honor. 

There  are  many  ways  of  bribing  without  actually 
handing  over  the  money.  Judges  and  legislators  arc 
mortal  like  other  men.  They  all  want  sonuLJiini.;'. 
They  arc  no  more  satisfied  with  what  they  have  tlmu 
the  bonanza  or  the  railroad  men.  One  aspir(  s  to 
high  political  preferment,  and  would  so  warp  the  law 
as  to  enable  him  to  decide  almost  any  way  tnr  tlic 
votes  of  a  vast  corporotion.  Another  covets  Icss'  r 
distinction — a  dinner  with  Crwsus,  various  un((»ni- 
moii  courtesies,  a  few  shares  in  something  profita- 
ble. There  are  a  hundn'd  wovs  to  oftcr  a  bribe:  and 
if  of  suitable  <iuality  and  tendered  in  the  right  w.iy, 
there  is  sliglit  chance  of  its  being  refused.  There  ar(! 
many  who  like  Paris  scorn  the  power  of  Juno  and  <!io 
wisdom  of  ^Minerva  for  the  fascinations  of  a  Iblrn. 
be  slie  lobbyist  or  siren.  Others,  like  Danae,  are  tnu 
willing  to  receive  the  visits  of  Jupiter  in  a  shower  of 
gold. 

It  seems  strange  sometimes  that  the  peoplo  will 
tanjely  submit  to  it.  Time  was  when  tliey  wen' 
quick  to  discover  fraud  and  insult,  quick  to  rise  in  tho 
defence  of  their  rights  and  honor.     And  even  now. 


A  ?USILT.ANIMOUS  I'EOPLE. 


4(1 


slioulcl  tlio  impositions  of  monopoly  bo  put  upc.n  the 
ji(<i|il(!  in  the  namo  of  unrii^htcous  rule  or  foni^^n  in- 
torfcroncc  tliey  would  shed  tlu'ir  last  drop  of  blood  in 
opposing  it.  But,  done  by  neighbors,  and  in  the  name 
ot'conun(>rco,  of  progress,  their  own  money  being  em- 
ployed to  forgo  the  fetters,  to  rivet  chains  on  them 
more  disgraceful  to  wear  than  any  which  ornamented 
the  serfs  of  feudalism,  they  bear  it,  pusillanimously 
licking  the  hand  that  smites  them. 

The  fact  that  <;reat  benefits  flow  from  the  buildincj 
of  railroads,  does  not  make  right  a  system  of  whole- 
sale robbery.  If  railways  are  a  benefit  conducted  on 
disciiminating  and  unfair  bases,  would  not  a  gnater 
]iul)ru'  benefit  accrue  if  they  were  conducted  on  hon- 
v>t  principles  i  With  all  great  blessings,  railways 
ai!!  all  the  more  a  curse  when  turned  from  their 
projicr  uses.  Whatever  their  benefits,  if  they  make 
a  Jiundred  new  states,  and  a  thousand  pros])erous 
citirs,  if  at  the  same  time  they  bring  demoralization, 
(1(  ( av,  and  death  to  the  bodv  l>olitic  and  the  bodv  so- 
(ill,  they  are  a  curse.  The  theory  of  our  govi'rnment, 
th;it  all  power  is  lodged  in  the  people,  and  is  t(j  be 
usrd  only  for  the  e(|ual  benefit  of  every  individual,  is 
])(rv(i'trd  by  the  discriminations  of  cori)orations  niade 
and  sup})ortcd  by  the  government. 

The  railway  owes  its  existence  to  and  is  the  crea- 
ture of  the  governnunit,  and  should  be  promptly 
chrckt'd  in  a  course  so  glaringly  in  opp)osition  to  laws, 
morals,  and  })ubhc  weal.  In  the  right  of  eminent 
domain  is  an  inii)licd  jtrinciple  that  the  land  of  a 
private  individual, condcnuied  for  public  us^,  must  be 
used  in  the  interests  of  the  public,  and  not  for  the 
exclusive  benefit  of  another  private  indivi<Iual.  The 
railroad  is  a  public  hiohwav,  ])uilt  huvelv  at  the;  ex- 
p'lise  of  thti  ind)lic,  and  subject  to  regulation  by  t!ie 
)»ihlic  in  rates  and  other  resju-cts,  in  consideration  of 
tlie  j^rivileges  and  grants  accorded  to  it.  When  this 
creature    of  the  government  becomes    a    conspirator 


442 


MONEY  AND  MONOPOLY. 


I! 


ii 


ajjjainst  the  community,  it  is  time  the  people  sliould 
assert  their  sovereignty  in  the  matter. 

"  lilvery  man  in  the  nation  ouglit  to  know,"  stivs 
Hudson,  "  liow  pubhc  rights  are  affected  by  the  abuses 
of  tlie  existing  system.  To  know  that  corponiiioiis 
are  powerful  and  tliat  individuals  are  weak,  will  nut 
suffice.  It  should  bo  as  familiar  to  the  public  mind 
as  tlie  multi[)lication  table,  how  the  monopoly  of  the 
railways  in  transportation  enables  them  to  discrimi- 
nate in  rates,  to  crush  out  inde[)endent  trade,  to  ex- 
tinguish small  merchants,  and  to  dominate  great  com- 
mercial interests;  how  their  combinations  to  con- 
trol industries  tend  to  oppress  production  and  to  keep 
down  wages ;  how  they  sus[)end  work  through  in- 
definite periods  for  selfish  ends;  how  their  efforts  to 
establisli  a  centralized  control  over  the  entire  trans- 
portation of  the  land,  by  a  single  unauthorized  and 
irresponsible  agency,  has  resulted,  and  may  again 
result,  in  o[>[)re8sing  the  consumer  of  the  great  agri- 
cultural staples  while  im}>overishing  the  producer,  by 
imi)osing  artificial  burdens  upon  the  interchange  of 
l)roducts ;  and,  finally,  how  the  tendency  of  their 
[)ractices,  as  a  system,  is  to  concentrate  all  the  [imtits 
and  rewards  of  industry  in  the  hands  of  a  few,  while 
the  [)eople  at  large  have  little  share  hi  the  benefits 
accruing  from  the  march  of  improvement.  If  tiiO 
railways  go  on  as  they  have  begun ;  if  they  continue 
to  purchase  legislators,  to  count  seats  in  congress  as 
their  property,  and  to  nominate  judges  to  the  higher 
courts ;  if  they  continue  to  warp  legislation  to  the 
support  of  railway  sui)remacy ;  if  they  continu<'  to 
erect  artificial  barriers  to  the  free  operations  of  great 
industries,  and  to  concentrate  the  profits  of  connnerce 
by  their  favors  to  the  privileged  few;  if  they  continuo 
to  secure  the  enforcement  of  laws  which  protect  their 
privileges,  and  to  imllify  those  which  restrict  them ; 
if  they  delay  and  prevent  the  passage  of  laws  to  regu- 
late them  and  restrain  tlieir  power,  and  cozen  the 
public  with  dcce[)tive  measures— in  a  word,  if  all  tlie 


REFORM  OR  REVOLUTION. 


443 


fcaturrs  wliicli  now  mark  the  influence  of  great  cor- 
jioi'.itioiis  in  })olitio.s  are  maintained  and  porpetuatetl, 
in  defiance  of  efforts  to  restrain  them  by  peuci'ful 
iiuaiis,  the  result  will  inevitably  be,  that  one  day 
tlitir  injustice  and  usurpatij)n  will  be  punished  by  a 
revolt  t)f  the  classes  they  have  wronged,  beside  which 
tli(>  l''ren('h  revolution  will  seem  an  equitable  and 
jH'ueefiil  reform." 

Tlie  franchise  of  a  railway,  as  a  public  highway, 
sliould  not  be  used  for  gain  save  for  public  benefit. 
Tlie  road  should  remain  subject  to  the  sui)ervision  of 
tlie  'j,()vernment,  and  be  used  by  all  citizens  on  equal 
terms,  without  discrimination  or  respect  to  places  or 
jHisons  to  and  from  which  business  is  tendered. 
Xevertheless,  there  is  a  loophole  for  excesses  in  the 
l;ititu(le  to  accept  low  rates  in  order  to  secure  business, 
;ui(l  to  levy  higher  rates  on  a  costly  road  than  on  one 
(if  comparatively  easy  construction.  These  points 
alone,  together  with  the  need  in  general  for  super- 
vi>i()U  of  so  important  a  public  institution,  call  for 
yovernment  interference  of  more  effective  character 
than  lias  so  far  been  displayed. 

Among  ])roposed  remedies  is  government  ownership 
of  railways,  as  existing  in  some  parts  of  Euro))c.  But 
until  our  politics  are  purified,  monopoly  is  tlie  lesser 
evil.  The  worst  feature  of  government  management 
in  this  rejniblic,  which  is  less  strict  than  in  France, 
would  arise  in  rings,  jobberies,  and  other  corruption 
by  unseruitulous  politicians  imbued  with  the  spoil  sys- 
tem. When  we  consider  the  extent  of  the  present 
))ril)ery,  vote-selling,  spoliation,  and  other  infamies 
among  officials  and  legislators,  what  might  not  \)v  ex- 
)!'  tted  when  the  control  of  additional  intircsts,  in- 
volving thousands  of  millions  of  property,  were  sur- 
I'endered  to  such  hands?  Other  reasons  might  be 
acMucod  to  stamp  the  plan  as  hopeless  under  existing 
conditions. 

This  is  the  view  taken  by  ]\rr  Hudsoti,  who  ]^vo- 
posed,  instead,  the  opening  of  railways,  like  turnpike 


iilHi 


'  I 


i\: 


i''': 


it'lf 


444 


MONEY  AND  MONOPOLY. 


roads,  for  free  public  use,  the  railway  companies  cm. 
structingaud  luaiutaining  the  lines  in  good  order,  Nviili 
repairing  and  inspecting  forces,  signal-men  and  the  likr, 
leaving  to  any  public  carrier  to  operate  passengir  inul 
freight  trains,  each  competing  with  the  other  for  imi)- 
lic  patronage  by  offering  special  dispatch  and  haudliii^, 
superior  comfort  and  attractions,  as  in  the  case  <  t' 
stages  and  steamers.  Tliis  system  looks  i)lausil)lc; 
but  the  objections  arc  that  the  railway  comi)any  would 
retain  as  much  latitude  as  ever  in  favoriny:  certain 
carriers,  with  profitable  connivance,  and  with  Uss  r*  - 
sponsibility  for  obstructions  and  accidents,  when  tlitse 
could  so  readily  be  shuffled  from  one  shoulder  to  an- 
other. Moreover,  the  company  which  controls  tlir 
road  could  clearly  enough,  with  its  primary  advan- 
tages, operate  trains  with  greater  dispatch  and  cheap- 
ness, and  would  do  so  surreptitiously  to  the  disadvan- 
tage of  ordinary  carriers  and  consequently  to  the  \)u\>- 
lic.  The  restriction  of  companies  to  mere  road  toll 
would  check  enterprise  and  retard  the  extension  of 
such  costly  work  to  remote  or  isolated  regions,  and 
hhider  the  develop  ncnt  of  settlements.  Finally,  tiiis 
system  has  been  tried  elsewhere,  not  alone  in  the  jiar- 
tial  degree  occasionally  practised  in  this  country,  wIkk 
several  companies  use  one  line  for  a  certain  distance, 
and  it  has  not  been  found  to  answer. 

Another  remedy  is  suggested  in  a  freer  competition, 
even  within  the  limits  assigned  to  certain  railways, 
when  these  fail  to  conform  to  stipulations.  8u(  li 
competition  has  unfortunately  not  proved  enduring, 
for  the  stronger  company  has  generally  succeeded  in 
crippling  or  driving  into  bankruptcy  the  obstinate 
rivals  by  a  prolonged  reduction  of  rates  below  a  re- 
nmnerative  basis,  or  it  has  persuaded  the  others  to 
enter  into  secret  or  open  combination,  unless  it  could 
acquire  a  controlling  interest  in  their  manageniciit  liy 
purchase. 

Railway  commissions  have  been  appointed  to  fix 
rates,  to  enquire  into  discrimination,   and  to  wuteli 


GOVERNMENT  INTERPOSITION. 


445 


over  public  interests  generally,  but  how  unsatisfactory 
thiii'  uiinistration  has  been  is  attested  by  the  frequent 
ami  wide  condemnatitm  of  their  acts  and  attitude.  It 
is  lUDst  difficult  to  ensure  such  a  body  against  the  in- 
sidious approaches  of  a  powerful  corporation. 

Official  weakness  and  corruption  stand  in  the  way 
of  all  public  reforms.  To  the  government  nmst  wo 
nevertheless  look  for  redress,  whatsoever  the  proposed 
plan  of  reform  may  be.  More  effective  laws  nmst  bo 
])assed  to  regulate  traffic  on  railways,  and  a  special 
department  at  Washington,  removed  from  local  in- 
fluences at  least,  should  be  entrusted  with  the  task  of 
watching  over  their  observance  and  applicability,  in 
order  to  report  amendments  for  eliminating  obstruc- 
tions and  improving  the  valuable  features  of  such 
laws.  Its  power  could  probably  not  bo  extended  over 
state  commissions  and  state  regulations,  but  the  re- 
fi)nn  achieved  in  inter-state  communication  alone,  the 
most  important  under  consideration,  would  be  of  great 
benefit,  and  serve  as  a  standard  for  inter-state  man- 
oi.>enient,  so  patent  to  all  as  to  greatly  enforce  com- 
pliance, even  with  a  corrupt  local  commission. 

Reform  is  needed  also  in  other  directions.  Besides 
the  three  great  monopolies,  which  are  fast  uniting 
i,ito  one,  railroad,  telegraph,  and  express — there 
are  other  monopolies  with  power  likewise  unscrupu- 
lously wielded,  which  is  dangerous  to  the  American 
people.  In  the  great  corporations  constituting  these 
uionopolies  is  every  essential  element  of  despotism — 
))ennaiient  privileges,  with  legal  rights  and  accunm- 
lated  powers,  superior  to  law  and  society.  It  is  the 
lust  for  power,  the  most  ominous  among  humanity's 
vices,  a  power  which  shall  make  one  man  master  and 
many  men  slaves,  that  is  the  governing  principle  in 
all  iniquitous  monopolies. 

Fastening  themselves  on  federal,  state,  county,  and 
town  governments  and  courts,  like  leeches  they  suck 
the  life's  blood  of  the  nation,  leaving  iu  a  weak,  inert, 


:s 


fi'l 


(* 


449 


MONEY  AND  MONOPOLY. 


and  flabby  thing.  Worse  than  this.  Into  the  i|>er- 
ture  thus  made  tliey  inject  a  subtle  poison,  wliich, 
though  it  may  work  slowly,  works  surely.  Tlio  tiiiio 
will  come  when  this  truth  will  be  recognized  by  nil: 
these  iniquitous  monopolies  must  die,  or  the  nation 
will  die.  The  people  of  the  United  States  arc  a  ji;i- 
tient,  lontjf-suffering  race,  but  when  fairly  aroused  no 
social,  political,  or  hidustrial  enormity  can  stand  up 
against  them.  It  is  for  the  people  to  look  for  tliciii- 
selvcs  into  all  these  nu.tters,  and  determine  whcthi  r 
they  will  be  bond  or  free. 

Society  has  a  right  to  enforce  the  doctrine  of  per- 
fect equivalents  in  all  bargains  affecting  its  hit<  ivsts, 
be  it  in  charters,  patents,  licenses,  in  the  manufacture 
and  disposal  of  wares,  hi  the  intentional  or  accidental 
control  of  large  resources,  natural  or  artificial,  or  in 
the  aim  and  attitude  of  all  maimer  of  associations. 
Corporate  privileges  are  a  public  trust,  to  be  resunud 
by  the  people  when  detrimental.  Hence  all  \ni\i\lc 
organizations  should  be  under  supervision  of  the  au- 
thorities, with  free  access  to  their  books,  so  as  to  }iiv- 
vent  all  confidence  operations,  niisrepresentations, 
and  inflations.  Disbursements  should  be  duly  ac- 
counted for,  as  well  as  the  reason  for  loans  and  tlio 
apjilication  of  profits.  In  many  instances  interfrr- 
ence  may  not  be  advisable  until  a  suffi<"icnt  nunilicr  tf 
members  demand  investigation.  In  other  cases  the 
investigation  should  be  periodical.  Regulations 
should  embrace  the  suppression  of  stock-ganihliiii,', 
and  all  business  conducted  on  bases  of  chance  or  nii.s- 
representation. 


Mill  objects  to  the  concentration  of  manufactures 
and  other  industrial  branches  in  the  hands  of  a  few. 
Equally  undesirable  is  the  accumulation  of  iniinensu 
wealth  b}'  individuals.  To  place  a  limit  on  acquisition 
might  deal  a  blow  to  enterprise,  but  taxes  could  ho  so 
regulated  as  to  fall  heaviest  on  those  best  able  to  hear 
them,  that  is,  tliey  could  be  increased  in  proportion 


DESPOTISM  OF  WEALTH. 


447 


to  the  fortune  possessed,  without  hainpcnn«^  the 
taloiited  and  industrious,or  unduly  burdening  coipora- 
tioiiH  tliat  liave  worthy  objects  in  view.  This  idea  is 
jijiplic'd  in  many  countries  in  tiio  excniptloii  of  incomes 
Itrlow  a  certain  amount,  and  in  tlio  usual  subjection 
of  hixuries  to  duties  iu  preference  to  necessities. 
NcveiHieless  the  enforcement  might  be  widened  and 
made  stricter.  The  case  with  which  assessors  at 
pn  sent  allow  rich  men  to  escape  from  paying  their 
rij^htful  share  of  taxation  is  shameful. 

It  is  becoming  a  serious  question  in  V  s  country, 
liow  nmch  wealth  it  is  safe  for  one  man  to  control. 
If  with  five  millions  legislators  may  be  corrupted, 
judges  and  juries  bought,  the  laws  trampled  under 
foot,  as  is  done  before  our  eyes  every  day,  how  nmch 
of  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happuiess  may  be 
diverted  from  constitutional  channels  by  the  possessor 
of  a  hundred  millions?  How  many  white,  freeborn 
American  citizens  docs  it  take  to  make  a  million  of 
dollars?  When  we  consider  that  the  majority  of 
iiiiniense  fortunes  have  been  accumulated  by  specula- 
tion, tinged,  more  or  less,  with  pernicious  gambling 
and  fraud,  to  the  impoverishment  and  oppression  of 
tliousands,  and  when  we  behold  capital  resort  to 
practices  damaging  to  the  citizen;  when  it  resorts  to 
unjust  monopoly,  bribery,  and  moral,  political,  and 
connnercial  corruption,  practices  more  damaging  to 
the  commonwealth  a  hundred  fold  than  murder,  high- 
way robbery,  and  all  the  rest  combined,  may  not 
tliosG  who  made  the  laws  change  them  to  meet  the 
emergency  ? 

As  a  rule,  inequalities  in  fortunes  receive  a  natural, 
readjustment  in  the  distribution  among  children.  Yet 
this  is  not  effective  in  all  cases.  A  tendency  is  mani- 
fested among  rich  men  hi  the  United  States  to  imitate 
the  primogeniture  system  of  Europe.  France  struck 
a  mortal  blow  at  this  custom  during  the  revolution, 
as  the  basis  for  the  maintetiance  of  an  objectionable 
aristocracy  of  nobles  and  drones.     Primogeniture  and 


I 


1 


. 


'  i!    ■ 


MONKY  AND  MONOPOLY. 


clasH  privilojifcs  are  utterly  inconsistent  witli  rcpuMicaii 
ideas,  and  indeed  witli  social  interests.  Some  tlicoiists 
advocate  the  reduction  of  hereditary  fortunes  liy  tax 
on  lej^acios  which  sliould  be  so  increast'd  with  each  >ub- 
SL'<(uent  transnnssion  as  to  leave  coujparativt'ly  little, 
say  for  the  fourth  generation.  Enforcements  wnuld 
1)0  dirticult,  yet  some  such  remedy  would  he  welcome, 
f  )r  it  is  undeniable  that  idlers,  supported  by  inhi  rikd 
wealth,  sc;t  a  batl  example  to  society,  and  form  a 
j>hase  of  monopoly,  exactin*^  a  tax  from  their  inij^h- 
bors  for  tlic  use  of  land,  houses,  money,  or  otiicr  pos- 
sessions, of  which  an  accident  of  birth  has  made  tluni 
masters.  What  most  <rrate3  upon  the  feelinj^s  of  tjie 
loss  fortunate  is  this  acquisition  by  accident,  in  per- 
petuity, of  what  is  denied  or  meagrely  acc(»rdic[  to 
worth  and  ability.  They  desire  that  all  citizoiis 
should  do  their  share  of  labor  and  produce  aonu'tliiiii,'. 

The  mo.st  objectionable  feature  of  accumulation 
consists  in  the  monopoly  of  land.  As  the  main 
source  for  the  food  of  all,  it  should  apparently  In-  for 
the  benefit  of  all.  Its  primary  acquisition  rests  u[)()n 
unjust  might,  upon  the  8Wt)rd  between  nations.  Con- 
querors apportioned  between  themselves  the  subju- 
gated territory,  even  if  they  did  not  also  enslave  the 
people.  In  Egypt  the  humbler  and  conquered  classes 
never  wore  allowed  to  regain  any  portion  of  the  soil,  for 
it  remained  with  the  king,  priests,  and  soldiers,  tlie 
vitality -absorbing  drones  of  the  nation.  The  Sj-an- 
iards  in  A.morica  held  largely  this  position,  and  the 
Anglo-Saxon  has  been  free  with  the  sword  if  not 
with  the  yoke.  In  India,  where  no  proprietory  rights 
in  land  existed,  they  have  sought  to  create  a  land- 
holding  aristocracy. 

The  ownership  of  land  is  dear  to  our  race,  and  has 
proved  one  of  the  strongest  incentives  to  progress. 
Nevertheless,  the  time  may  come  when  exclusive 
rights  therein  may  be  declared  detrimental  to  })ublic 
weal.  The  crofter  troubles  in  the  northern  part  of 
Great  Britain  have  created  a  ireneral  sentiment  that 


LAND-IIOLDINd. 


419 


good  land  should  not  be  withheld  for  usoloas  personal 
iiurposcs, where  the  conununity  requires  it  tor  «ub- 
sisti  lue.  It  also  seems unn'ttsonahle  that  one  nuin  by 
viitiu!  of  accidental  discovery,  or  first  occupation, 
should  claim  exclusive  right  to  large  tracts  for  his 
tiimily,  in  perpetuity,  when  future  generations  may 
\>v  sorely  in  need  of  a  share. 

Tiie  acquisition  of  land  should  undoubtedly  be  re- 
stricted to  limited  holdings.  The  rule  enforced  by  the 
ivi)ul)lic  for  homestead  and  preemption  grants,  this 
coutury  and  more,  which  concedes  a  title  only  upon 
proofs  of  occupation  and  cultivation,  might  well  be 
i\teii(led  to  all  hind-hoIders.  Indeed,  that  rule  points 
til  tlio  eoimnunal  interest  in  the  soil,  by  reijuiring  a 
•  uhhI  nse  to  be  mad(i  of  it.  It  is  the  patrimony  of  the 
nation  for  the  benefit  of  all  its  children,  not  of  a  few. 
Most  reprehensible  and  injurious  is  therefore  the  loose 
system  in  the  United  States  which  has  permitted  rich 
iiK'ii,  foreigners, and  speculators,  to  absorb  so  nmch  of 
the  richest  lands  in  areas  unlimited,  while  the  poor 
man  lias  been  kept  strictly  to  the  letter  of  the  law. 

TliC  remedy  for  this  abuse  lies  in  equalizing  the 
taxation  or  rather  unjust  assessment,  so  that  holders 
nf  uncultivated  tracts  in  a  cultivattid  district  may  be 
foroi'd  by  the  burden  to  make  good  use  of  it  oi"  sell  it 
to  those  who  shall  do  so.  It  may  be  well  also  to 
liasteu  the  reduction  of  large  estates,  especially  inher- 
ited, l)v  increasing  the  taxation  with  the  size  of  the 
tract,  as  Mr  Philli[)s  proposes.  In  connnon  with  Mr 
(jcorgo  he  is  opposed  to  ownership  in  land,  and  urges 
tliat  it  he  merely  leased  to  the  highest  l)idder,  with 
traiistiiission  of  possessory  rights  under  condition  of 
;j,ood  use.  Taxation  would  as  a  rule  enforce  the 
latter  stipulation. 

Ill  England  taxation  has  of  late  assisted  in  reducing 

111*  •  • 

liokhngs,  and  augmenting  the  shares  of  the  masses. 
In  iManee  the  law  against  primogeniture  has  hastened 
tlie  distribution,  and  tho  increased  prosperity  resulting 
from  a  large  class  of  peasant  proprietors,  numbering 

Essays  and  MiscEi,r.ANY     2i 


Blliiiiiiill 


!f3  i 


4r)0 


MONEY  AND   MONOrOLY. 


■!  'i 


about  four  millions,  demonstrates  tlio  advantn^c  of 
small  holdinijjs alike  to  the  country  and  the  individuuls, 
Thi'Y])r(>ni()tcals()bcttcrcultivationan(linipr<)V(  iiK  Ills, 
increased  i)roduction,  and  higher  wages,  the  latti  r  hv 
the  constant  advance  of  laborers  to  propriitoisirm. 
The  elevation  of  labor  by  this  means  is  one  of  the  nidst 
])romising  phases  of  American  progress.  The  gnnti  r 
the  niunber  of  land-owners,  the  greater  the  int( k  st 
in  the  nation's  weal  and  in  tiie  pri'servation  of  ptacr. 

It  may  be  objcH'ted  that  our  im|)roved  n'achiii.iv 
and  methods  render  cultivation  cheaper  on  laiv" 
tracts.  Wher(>  this  becomes  evident,  as  in  I.'irgc  val- 
leys, farmers  may  unite  in  cooperative  eti'orts  as  wi  11 
as  purchase  of  imj»roved  machines.  E.Kpcriiiirinal 
efforts  on  a  small  or  large  scale  niay  l)e  entrusted  to 
agficultuj'al  societies.  Such  eoml>ination  of  iiitetvsts 
cannot  fail  to  benefit  everyone  concerned,  by  inctiiti\t', 
method,  and  increased  j)rofits,  besides  achievingall  the 
a  Ivantages  claimed  for  large  operations. 

•Fudicious  taxation  for  the  jiurpose  of  reducing  large 
holding's  is  evidentlv  in  fav(»r  of  the  masses  and  of 
general  jtrospcrity.  NevertheU'ss  I  cannot  agree  witli 
Mr  (jieorii-e's  scheme  of  burden in«j:  the  land  alone  with 
the  entire  ta.\  levy  of  the  country,  for  such  a  tax  wouU 
fall  heaviest  on  the  main  necessaries  of  life,  and  cen- 
sequently  on  the  ])oor.  1  luxuries  can  better  sustain 
a  larger  share  of  the  burden,  as  untler  our  present 
svsteni,  and  should  do  so,  if  onlv  for  the  moral  beneiits 
tlun'eby  attained. 

In  connection  with  the  general  n^form  nmst  enter 
a  nund)er  of  accessory  or  sulioi'dinate  i-egnlations, 
such  as  the  restoration  and  extension  of  timber  reui"ii"^. 
in  return  for  access  to  their  resources;  and  the  ap]ior 
tionment  of  pastures  so  that  scanty  water  deposits 
may  not  fall  to  a  few.  Water  should  even  more  tlian 
land  be  for  the  general  l)enefit.  This  has  becMi  rcceo-- 
ni/ed  by  several  nations  in  enactments  which  reseiv(^ 
for  the  public  not  alone  navigai)le  rivers  but  all  run- 
ning stnvims.      In  England  riparian  laws  pre\ail,  and 


THE   WATEIl   ri;i)l'.LE.\[. 


451 


liave  been  adopted  in  the  ITiiitod  States,  because  tlie 
l>ii)l)leiii  of  irrigation  has  not  entered  hito  seiious con- 
sideration until  lately.  Now,  tlie  conditions  are 
( lutiii^ing  witii  the  occupation  of  tlie  Iloci\y  niountain 
ivL;ioii  and  the  Pacific  slope,  once  regarded  as  deserts, 
l)Ut  proved  to  be  rich  hmd  if  reclaimed  l)y  irrigation. 
Tills  re(|uires  fi-eo  access  to  water.  It  becomes  evi- 
dent tliat  laws  framed  for  Ji  country  not  dependent  on 
water-channels  for  cultivation  should  not  be  applied 
t>»a  I'cgion  whicli  is  so  dependent,  t)wing  to  scanty  or 
uiie(|iially  distributed  rain-fall.  Tlie  aim  oi'  laws 
is  til  promote  the  con)inon  go<»(l,  an  i  must  naturally 
li"  adjusted  to  suit  changing  conditions.  Ilules  gov- 
t'lMJng  a  nomad  jx'ople  or  regulating  slavery  are  in- 
;ip|)r()priati!  for  settled  fri'emen.  Wlien;  laws  have 
hei'oine  injurious  th«y  nnist  bo  amended.  The  ob- 
joctions  of  a  few  riparian  property-liolders  must  not 
stand  in  the  way  of  tlu;  j»r(^speiity  of  entire  districts, 
or  imperil  the  existence  of  entire  coinnumities.  Else- 
wlieri'  I  have  considered  the  reasons  and  local  jtrece- 
dcnre  f»r  amending  riparian  laws,  and  the  methods  f"» 
arri\  ing  at  a  proper  distribution  of  available  waters. 

The  most  encouraging  pliasc  of  ])rogress  since 
mediicval  times  has  been  the  elevation  of  the  masses, 
ti)  which  the  invention  of  gunpowd(>r,  conij»ass,  and 
printing-press  gave  the  great  impulse*.  T\\\^  amelio- 
ration is  constantly  augmenting  undc-r  the  daily  a<ldi- 
timisto  id»;as,  nietlp  ds,  and  machinery,  for duvipening 
t'nod,  incrca-iing  ctiniforts,  and  s[)reading  eiilighteii- 
iiicnt.  I'he  Iran:  f  )rmatioii  has  been  especially  marked 
dui'in^  the  last  half  centniy,  and  to  tli(>  suddenness  of 
t!ic change,  beyond  all  expectations,  and  in  advance  of 
knowledge  wherewith  to  frame  restrictivt*  laws,  nmst 
he  asoribtid  such  attendant  evils  as  mono|)o!y,  o))j)res- 
sioii  of  factory  hands,  and  the  like.  The  greaicT  the 
present  excess,  however,  the  rpiicker  will  come  the  sur- 
t<it.  andtlie  swifter  the  scattering  and  the  deliverance. 

Mill  believes  that  the  relation  of  master  and  work- 


'  '*  ' 

■k  ' 

»''■ 

1:: 

1 

^;    , 

■1    ,■ 

t 

i\ 

1 

.>i 


u 


;*i 


111  'V  ii 


403 


MONEY  AND  MONOPOLY. 


men  will  be  gradually  superseded  by  partnerships,  hy 
associations  of  workmen  with  cai)italists,  and  of  woik- 
men  alone,  the  latter  to  predominate  in  due  tiiiK;. 
As  the  toilin;^  labor  of  to-day  is  entitled  to  greater 
consideration  than  the  ca[)ital  of  yestrrday,  so  itsfiiis 
just  that  labor  should  by  }»reference  be  controlled  liy 
organized  labor — be  indepi-ndent,  self-governed.  Co- 
operation has  so  far  not  succeeded  well  in  industrial 
branches,  from  a  lack  of  the  necessary  training  in 
self-control  and  self-reliance.  The  solution  lies  cliitlly 
with  such  associations  as  the  trades -unions,  wliitli 
sprang  up  among  the  working  people  when  tlie  guilds, 
undermined  by  capital,  fell  into  exclusive  ha  mis. 
They  have  of  late  assumed  huge  [)roportions,  corn  s. 
pondhig  to  the  growth  of  antagonistic  monnpdly. 
Harmony  and  proper  organization  are  still  the  de- 
ments wanting  for  success.  A  great  stride  foiwaid 
has  been  taken  in  the  fi^deration  of  hitlierto  scatteiiil 
unions,  for  nnitual  relief  as  well  as  uun'v  etleetivc 
action.  The  absunlity  and  failure  of  so  many  strikes, 
even  when  encouraged  by  the  federation,  imiicatc 
the  lack  of  an  efticient  head.  The  members  of  unions 
shoidd  learn  a  lesson  from  the  administration  of  tlio 
re[)ublic,  with  its  representative  and  legislative  c(inii- 
cils  and  its  executive,  and  the  patient  submission  of 
the  pco})le  to  their  direeiions.  which  constitute  tlit> 
supposed  wish  of  the  majority.  Dissatisfaction  with 
existing  enactments  can  be  expressed  in  the  elti  iloii 
of  better  repi'esentatives.  With  intelligent  considc  ra- 
tion of  pendiiig  <piestions  by  a  council,  sustained  ly 
harmonious  cooperation  among  the  members,  ciiois 
will  be  avoided  and  satisfactory  suee(>ss  achiex-.d. 
Discord  nmst  above  all  be  eschewed  in  the  face  of  tlio 
stupendous  struggh^  bef  )rc  them.  Nationalities  have 
been  undermineti  therel)y  no  less  than  social  and  in- 
dustrial bodies. 

Such  an  organization,  when  duly  perfected,  couM 
aid  the  establishment  of  c..<>j;viativ(>  works  in  dill't  I'liit 
branches  and  localities,  and  issue  general  rules  for  th'  ir 


oiu;anizi;d  coorEiiAXioN. 


4M 


'^n'uhuce.  It  could,  like  any  government,  call  for 
lr\  it'S  or  loans  wlarowitli  to  provide  plant  and  work- 
ing- ciipitul.  Proposed  cooperations  might  for  that 
matter  <»btain  credit  from  outside  sources,  when  once 
((•iitideneo  has  been  infuseil  by  judicious  and  res})on- 
sililc  organization,  whether  this  be  of  federal  or  ( en- 
tral  tvpe,  un(h'r  the  direct  su))ervision  (»f  one  general 
(•(Uiiicil,  or  of  special  councils  for  eacli  bran(h  of  in- 
dustry, lender  the  guidance  of  similar  assemblies 
may  bo  atljusted  the  relations  between  employers  and 
(Mii|il(yi'd,  or  between  associated  workmen  and  capi- 
talists. The;  interior  managi'ment  of  cooperative  con- 
(ci'iis  should  in  turn  be  subject  to  its  own  eh'cted 
(•(iiiiifil  and  constitution,  with  the  necessary  otlicials. 
Ill  iiiic,  a  good  republican  form  of  govi-rnment  ap- 
;  'its  admirably  to  industiial  organizations.  ^Vithout 
\\i>e  rule  and  due  submission  arise  corruption  and 
aiiaicliy.  ]^ut  even  here,  as  in  any  well-regulated 
iriiuhlic,  there  should  not  be  indiscriminate  voting. 

Association  of  this  character  W(»uld  be  able  to  stu<ly 
markets,  methods,  and  other  conditicMis  with  gieat 
ctKct,  by  maintaining  i-xchange  of  ideas  with  similar 
t'nrcign  bodies,  as  merchants  and  manufacturers  en- 
deavor to  d«)  under  |)ri'sent  defi  ctive  arrang^'nients. 
( >iii  good  result  woukl  be  to  check  the  over-}»roduc- 
tinii  wliich  now  manifi'sts  itself  in  jieriodic  stagnation, 
liaiikriijitcies,  and  disti'ess,  with  occasional  severe 
jiaiiics.  Another  would  be  to  obviate  siitfering  among 
<'|uiatives  by  pointing  out  the  condition,  avenues,  and 
j.i(i-.]i( cts  of  trade.  For  that  matter  ctxijieration  or 
[iii)t.('(tive  associations  could  readily  be  extt'nded  to 
tin  ]iensi(W»  s}  stem  now  organized  by  the;  (hrman 
,Uii\rrnment,  and,  faither,  to  an  e<|uabli'  division  of 
lain  If  and  pnifits,  with  a  corres[>on<ling  i-eduetioii  in 
W' iking  liours  and  incn^ascul  leisure  for  impi'o\ing 
Jiiid  eniovable  entertainment.  The  constant  invi  ntion 
"t  lali(ii'-savin<j:  macliinerv  tends  natnrallv  to  such  re- 
duitidii.  and  tli<>  growing  (>ase  of  intei'ceai'se  assists  to 
v>il(l  the  nations  into  one  brotherhood.     Similar  mil- 


454 


MONEY  AND  MONOPOLY. 


ft'  111 


lennial  tlumgh  by  no  means  visionary  motliods  can 
evidently  he  applied  to  commerce,  agriculture,  and 
other  industries. 

The  ohjectioii  rises  that  such  co!n])inations  tend  to 
the  per]K(tuution  of  new  [)hase8  of  monopoly,  as  ex- 
hibited in  fact  by  trades-unions  in  many  directions,  ly 
iiijnrious  strikes  and  other  arljitraiy  ])ro<'eediiitis. 
Hut  the  remedy  lies  with  the  government,  wlinsc 
anticipated  nuuisures  may,  as  we  hoj>e,  soon  rdii  vc 
us  from  the  present  abuses  by  capital  mono[)iily. 
Questions  not  readily  reached  in  that  manner  can  un- 
doubtedly be  settled  by  a[)})eals  to  tlie  ii:l(  lli;;eitt 
councils  and  heads  of  the  coming  corporations  and 
federations,  with  settlement  bv  conr.non-seiise  aiul  i»v 
the  simple  arbitration  which  is  rapidly  gaining  {'aver 
among  all  classes. 

Thc^  foremost  consideration  must  of  course  be  fcr 
the  interest  of  the  greatest  number,  for  the  coiiinio!' 
good,  and  to  this  nmst  be  subordinate  the  aspirations 
of  more  classes,  although  with  due  regard  f  >r  nunoiity 
re(p.iir(Mnents.  Inventions  are  hailed  by  all,  as  ti  nd- 
in'»'  to  increase  the  sientM'al  welbbeinLf  and  enio\in(  tit. 
When  nuudiinery  revolutionizes  a  certain  bran(  h  of 
industry  and  tiirows  a  number  of  peo])Ie  out  of  \\:irk, 
a  class  must  suHer  f«»r  the  public  welfare,  and  adjust 
itself  to  new  conditjcns.  Tiie  strong  and  i'i(di  Ilk.  \\i-' 
must  restrain  their  aspirations  for  exressi\e  weali  !i  and 
]>ovver.  and  ft)r  the  enjoyment  of  luxuriv-s  w]ii(  h  uia\' 
injure  other  <dass(\s,  or  come  in  ccnfliet  witli  tin;  re- 
f  ii'ukmI  national  principles.  To  su<  li  sacrifice  and  ah- 
steiiance  n)ay  in  du(^  time  bo  accorded  nnvards  bivond 
the  plv>asing  consciousness  of  social  duty  perfonneii.  to 
the  furtherance  of  ha[»[tine.ss  and  of  general  progress. 


feU 


CHAPTER  XY. 

LITER ATUKK  OF  CENTRAL  AMERICA. 
Tout  lidiiiitio  t':jt  furme  pur  buu  »iticle ;   bien  puu  yeluvoiit  au-(le»su3  dea 

—  VoWiire. 

Under  the  hcadliiinj  of  literature  T  ])r()p<)se  to  em- 
bviicv  not  alone  the  tile'^ant  and  iM»a<;iiiuti\  c\  hut  to 
snnic  extent  tlie  scientilie  and  instructive  hranelios 
of  rite  sultject,  in  order  to  convoy  a  clearer  \\v\v  of 
tlii'  i>rou,'res.s  made  in  tliis  fartliest  west  toward  the 
lii.:lnr  realms  of  autho]'shi[).  This  i>econies  particu- 
iai  Iv  (h'sirahle  in  tlie  infancy  of  literature,  and  iji  coun- 
tlii  s  whtnv  th(3  ])ractical  and  didactive  pri'doniinates; 
wii  ro  unsettled  conditions  ))orniit  little  attention 
to  arts  tliat  depend  for  peifect  devflopnient  on  the 
Icisuse  and  refinement  centritiiij  in  j^nat  cities.  In 
Mt'\i((>  we  hehold  one  such  centre,  for  Spanish  Anier- 
iei;  in  San  Francisco  anotliei"  is  formiuL*"  f"i'  the  An- 
jilii-Saxon  possessions.  Ii!  hnth,  the  i'osterin_L(  co-elti- 
ciriit^;  have  eticountei-cd  formidai»le  ohstach's. 

The  cultivation  of  letters  has  here  l»e»n  spasmodic 
Mild  tiratie.  In  iiatin  America  .-v  Idii*^'  |H'riod  of  colo- 
nial tiitela'^f,  witii  ri^id  censorship,  tnllowtd  In'  dis- 
trartinLj,'  civil  waix,  has  had  a  i'i'tardin«4  etK'ct.  aui>- 
JiKiitt'd  hy  the  indoleiiee  and  snpcrliciality  pi'r\ailini4' 
aiiiDMiJi;  the  people.  North-W(  stward,  the  youtiifLdin'ss 
(if  the  states,  the  pre-occnj)ation  with  mines  and  other 
industrial  r(!Sourc<'s,  home  liuildin;^,  and  the  eat^er 
|M!rsijit  of  trade  and  s|»e<'idation  in  the  mitro]M)lis, 
pifclude  so  far  any  wide  ctforts  to  s(>t  aside-  the  over- 
sliadnwin'''  intluence  of  the  eastern  states. 


U«r) 


406 


LITKRATUKE  OF  CKNTRAL  AMITJCA. 


ii;?! 


On  the  other  hand  exist  many  favoring  elenu  uts. 
In  Spanish  America  the  religious  orders,  as  elsevvlitiv. 
hccame  the  de[Msitories  of  knowledge  and  tlie  traincis 
ufahost  of  orators  and  \vriters,  from  ainony:  wIkhi 
issued  many  a  brilliant  liy-ht  to  illuminate  tvcrv  il- 
juirtment  of  literature.  The  most  interesting  fcatmv 
is  the  presence  of  an  aboriginal  factor,  which  in  line 
left  its  impress  on  the  })nKlnctionsof  anew,  eompositt', 
and  vivacious  race,  tending  lo  a  (le[arture  from  \\n - 
rian  models  by  presenting  ncM'  thcnus  and  fresli  iii- 
s[>iiation,  patriotic  and  social,  and  by  adding  a  l<av(  ti 
to  the  admixture  of  central  and  ^vostern  Euro}>iaii 
styles,  wherewith  to  foster  the  creation  of  a  new- 
school. 

Northward  the  favoring  causes  nmst  be  sought  in 
strange  eiivironment,  jx'culiar  incidents,  and  abnoiinjil 
develo[>ment,  which,  acting  on  a  cosmopolitan  medli  y 
of  select  rej)re.-cntatives  from  diflerent  nationalities, 
have  unfoldetl  a  dash  and  eneigy  unpaialh  led.  as 
manifested  hi  great  id(^as,  novel  exjieriments,  and  vast 
undertakings.  These  traits  have  extended  to  litda- 
ture,  and  the'  success  achieved  in  several  directions 
hold  out  the  most  flattering  ]iromises  for  the  futiiiv, 
in  original  juid  varied  as  well  as  ])rolific  eflbrts. 

The  minds  of  both  regions  have  })een  primarily  cast 
in  (\'jstern  moulds,  those  of  Calilbrnia  mainly  in  the 
Atlantic  states  centring  round  Boston  and  New  Voik, 
which  again  draw  m*  little  inspiration  from  the  liai!.-- 
oceani(t  shores.  The  ]  I ispan(»-Americans  yielded  t"<  r 
centuries  a  slavish  adhereme  to  the  one  mother  c<»un- 
try  .v'hose  soui'cc  s  and  models  still  remain  their  }iiiii- 
cipal  shrines,  notwithstanding  the  influence  of  varir.l 
intercourse  duiing  the  last  six  decades,  and  the  ail 
mission  of  other  types. 

In  both  regions  the  early  <lalibling  in  literature,  and 
inileed  much  of  the  subse(|Utnt  iierformanccs,  were 
neccssarilv  due  to  immiurants,  so  that  the  local  claim 
fotlieii-  ownership  stands  in  (piestionable  light.  Tli-tse 
efforts  do,  nevertheless,  belong  largely  here,  inspiicd 


PHYSICAL  IN'FLUKXCKS. 


487 


iui<l  framed  as  tJiev  wore  bv  new  environments  in 
nature  and  soeiety,  without  wliieli  tliey  would  never 
have  Ix'conu!  manifest.  Kaeli  turniid  Itesiiles  an  in- 
centive an<l  st.indardforsueeeedinjjj  |n<Mlueti<»ns,  wliieli 
r.ijiidly  followed  amid  new  interest.-s  and  luw  li«»nie^, 
in  no  eonteniptible  rivalry  with  the  exhibits  of  the 
mother  soil. 

Mi'xico,  as  the  capital  from  the  hegimiinu;  of  a  vast 
and  rich  state,  JHcame  thi;  )>iilitieal  lit-ad  of  all  Siumish 
Aincrlea  nortli  of  the  Isthmus,  and  continues  the 
social  and  intellcetual  centre.  N(."vertlule.<s,  tho 
region  bi'tween  l^anjinia  and  ( Juatemala  takes  prece- 
dence in  both  clironolo^ie  and  Ljeo'^iaphie  oi'der  for 
review,  as  the  fountain  if  not  the  scene  for  historical 
ami  scientific  reports,  oratorical  and  tli(M)loi;ical  ])ro- 
duttions,  and  even  poetic  eifusions,  for  about  two 
dtcades  prior  to  the  discovery  of  Xew  Spain. 

The  novelties  of  aspect  and  circumstances  cropping 
out  at  every  turn  wen;  a  constant  source  of  inspira- 
tion. And  wliat  a  panorama  is  presented  to  the 
jii.storian  as  well  as  tJie  poet  in  CV'utral  America,  with 
its  varied  fields  for  comjuests,  its  diversity  of  phys- 
ic al  conditions,  from  miasmatic  coast  lands  to  hi;j;h 
plateaux  and  lofty  ranijjes  crowned  by  sniokiiiijf  volca- 
iiois;  a  reoion  ofttMi  stirred  by  eruptions  and  e.ii'th- 
miakes,  wiiih!  nature  otherwise  lies  masked  in  all  the 
luxuriance  of  trojilc  vegetati(»n,  alive  with  sonijj  fi'om 
I'irds  of  brilliant  i>lumaj.:;e,  aL;low  with  biiL^litness  from 
a  suidit  .^kv,  and  fanned  bv  etesian  zeIlh^■rs.  Two 
vast  oceans  bathe  the  windinj^  shoi'es,  on  one  side  with 
•  Itiickeiiiin;'  currents  from  the  orient,  tlie  c-i'adK'  of  civ- 
iiization,  whicli  seem  to  t^voke  a  resj)onse  in  tin; 
iiuinerous  evidences  of  life  and  culture,  while  the  eom- 
parativelv  infei'ior  tvoes  and  h  ss  allurino:  features  of 
t!ie  eastern  slopes  retlect  lather  the  dark  continent 
fi'oiitin'j:  it  Thus  we  find  here  tluMuder.  naked  Jisher 
trihes,  larLit'ly  mixed  with  ne;4-i'o  ))lood,  while  in  tlu^ 
adiolnino- lake-dotted  Nicaraojua  fl  urishes  a  people  as 
advanced  as  any  in  S[)anish  America,     Furtlier  north 


I'l  iMibtitt 


468 


UTERATUTIE  OF  CFXTllAL  AMERICA. 


If 

1"^       n' 


M 


m 


w 


this  race  lias  inlicritod  tlio  ^l(»ii«)us  ]»rt'sti«jj»i  of  such 
ancient  nations  as  tiio  Quiches  and  Cakcliicjuels,  tanK;d 
for  liiufii  culture  and  yjreat  achievenuiits. 

This  culture  is  above  all  indicatrd  in  the  ithonctic 
elements  of  the  picture-writin*.'  with  which  prit  stlv 
ch  rollick' rs  recorded  myths  and  rites,  heroes  and  iu]<  is, 
incidents  and  institutions.     Of  a  more  coin|il<,\  fmiii 


ks 


MVc 


than  the  Nahua  hiero<i;l\  phics,  the  Maya  hool 
unf(»rtunately  remained  sealed  to  us,  d('S[»it«!  the  tlinrts 
made  l»y  Landa  and  Brasseur  de  Boui'boui*^  tow  arc! 
deci}thering  them.'  The?  esoteric  nature  of  tlicse 
records,  however,  tended  to  strengthen  trnditional 
knowledge;  among  the  people,  and  to  this  we  arc  in- 
debted even  in  A/tec  matters  for  most  of  the  iidbriDa- 
tion  relating  to  times  before  the  conquest. 

A  type  of  ^faya  writing  is  pic^seiited  in  the  I'ainil 
Villi  of  the  Quiches,  transcribed  from  memory  in  tlic 
vernacular,  but  in  lloinan  letters,  by  oik;  or  hkhc 
well-informed  natives.  It  tells  of  the  creation  ot'tlic 
World,  as  understood  by  this  peo[ile,  the  ])i'(igri  ss  <if 
culture,  the  wanderings  and  struggles  of  their  own 
national  heroes,  and  the  growth  i^'(  the  Quiches.  The 
religious  element  jiredominates  throughout,  witli  a 
striking  intonation  of  the  mysterious,  the  tdiihle, 
which  form  the  chief  characteristics  of  the  worsliip. 
These  fi'atures,  indeeil,  si'cni  to  cast  their  dread  sjiell 
on  the  narrator's,  who  tell  the  storv  with  a  niaikid 
awe  that  weighs  heavily  upon  tlieir  s[tirits,  and  allows 
little  of  the  loftv  soaring  that  allures  and  transpoits 


the  reader  of  similar  Hellenic  lor 


Tl 


lere  is  nioiv 


aj>j>ro\imation  to  the  sterner,  cold-bloodi'd  incidents 
in  the  Scandhiavian  mvtht)logv,  vet  without  the  Im.M 
and  grand  conce[)tions  of  the  free  and  hardy  N 


nn'ii. 


A  sadiu>ss  pervades  every  page,  denoting 


the  regretful  musing  of  a  con(|uere<l  rac(>,  fallen  t'l  ini 
high  asj)irations,  and  deprived  of  its  (  herished  iiislitii- 
tions,  than  one  whose  spirit  has  beei'  l;roken  und'  i' 
long  centuries  of  despotic  rule  and  cruel  rites.  Tin' 
trait  is  stron-^lv  marked  to  this  dav. 


AKORIOINAL  UECOllDS. 


480 


Not  only  is  the  (liction  ratljor  bald  tlirougliout,  but 
the  plirascolonjy  is  stilttd.  Tlic  writer  appears  too 
derply  impressed  l)y  bis  farts  to  permit  mucb  dii;res- 
simi  toward  cither  dramatization  or  embellisiimeiit. 
The  inferiority  in  these  respects  is  due  ji^reatly  to  the 
iiilliieiir«^s  already  mentioned,  and  it  becomes  more 
marked  by  comparison  Avitli  the  traitsof  northern 
Indians,  free  in  their  vast  buntin<jj-<;r(mnds  and  less 
dominated  by  the  terrible  in  religion.  Limited  as 
their  vocabulary  may  be,  it  finds  a  ready  flow  in  di<j- 
nifu'd  and  even  majestic  harangue,  full  of  beautiful 
imagery. 

Nevertheless  there  appear  scenes  in  the  Poy>/J  llth 
'vhich  stir  even  the  <4rovellini>'  serf  The  first  dawn- 
iiii;'  of  tlio  sun  evokes  for  instaiice  an  eftbrt  to  depict 
its  splendor.  **  (ireat  is  my  brilliancy.  Before  me 
have  nien  to  walk  and  to  stand  still,  for  my  eyes  are 
of  silver,  respleinlent  like  precious  stones,  stones  which 
are  L;reen  like  the  litavens/  My  nostrils  gleam  like 
the  moon.  ]\ry  throne  is  of  silver;  and  the  earth 
hri^litens  as  I  advance.  I  am  sun  and  moon  for  the 
I'nlii^htenment  of  my  vassals." 

In  the  very  first  line  we  perceive  the  bending  of 
the  awe-strieken  adorer  instead  of  tlu.'  lofty  pti'sin  of 
tlie  inspired  admirer.  The  similes  have  a  barbaric 
and  circumscribed  stamj)  instead  of  soaring  grandeur, 
and  poverty  of  language!  is  indicated  in  re[)etition  as 
well  as  in  the  use  of  green  for  blue  or  azure.  Select 
]iaragrn[)hs  like  the  above  are  not  very  fre(|uent,  still 
a  certain  ixx'tic  oriiiinalitv  shines  forth  now  and  then, 
and  tin;  strides  toward  ehxjuence,  while  sliort  and 
unsustained,  and  due  largely  to  tlie  translator,  are 
]ieiveptil)le  also  in  tlie  em])hasis  so  frequently  though 
(TiKh'ly  employed,  notably  in  the  addresses  and 
invocations. 

Whatever  may  be  the  faults  of  style,  the  native 
records  are  full  of  themes  as  varied  and  alluring  aa 
those  that  stirred  the  medi'jcval  romanciers  and  trou- 


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UTEUATUIiK  (IF  IKXTRAL  AMERK^A. 


baJoura.  We  find  iiulicjitioiis  t'iu)U<j;li  in  tlie  i)n<>os  of 
Ovicdo,  Las  Casus,  and  otlur  early  writers  en  aluiriLj- 
inal  t'r.ncs,  but  they  are  mere  glimpses,  and  t»>  the 
cH'orts  of  later  resident  autln)rs  are  we  cldeMy  in- 
debted tor  a  fulka*  dis[>lay  of  tlio  subject.  It  is  \>y 
jio  means  so  thorouyfli  lM>wever  as  in  manv  Xuliiiu 
recor<ls.  These  men  eanK-  t(«>  late  to  reseui?  umic 
than  I'raijfnu'nts  ofeithei'  ree()rdsor  traditions  iVom  tlif 
ravau'es  of  time  and  fanatie'sm.  The  inroads  Iuim' 
continued  to  oui'  days.  I|fli(>;i,,us  bioy-otrv  vitl<l(il 
tile  fitninoHt  place  to  military  marauders  and  j>it- 
judiced  chroniclers,  and  the  result  is  a  defieii-nc  y  nl' 
|)ubli(!  and  piivate  archives  that  is  appallintjj.  (jiujite- 
inala  alone  pi'csented  at  the  close  of  the  oolotiial  jieiiod 
a  collection  at  all  worthy  of  sui-h  a  teiin,  and  this  had 
to  snller  at  the  hands  of  invaders  undi'r  Itnrl>i<lr, 
M(»r!4an,  and  others,  with  foreign  lelic  hunters  in  the 
wake;' 

Such  general  neglect  could  bj  associated  only  will) 
a  criniiiial  indiHTa'enco  for  literary  treasures;  and  thi;^ 
lias  been  tin;  caso  until  recent  times,  when  nn  n  hke 
S'luior  anil  Brasseur  <Ie  Bourbourg  set  a  beneficial 
ex.iu)|)le  in  resisarch  and  in  collecting.  Similar  jut- 
vi  >us  attempts  were  isolated,  and  as  a  rule  (rircct.tl 
toward  s  )mo  s])ccial  ol)ject,  as  writing  a  history  or 
olab  )rat  ^  rep  )rt  with  a  view  to  personal  faiiK^  or  |)rolit. 
The  rejuMted  demands  from  Spain  for  histoi-ic  mate- 
rial gave  no  doubt  an  impulse,  but  it  was  ahiMst 
wholly  confined  to  colonial  incidents  and  condition^, 
vnth  little  or  no  rcvgard  for  aboriginal  times;  am! 
Kurop  Niii  Si)a,niards  obeyed  the  call  more  tliaii 
Creoles,  who  should  have  manifested  the  greater 
interest.* 

The  intellectual  revival  inaugurated  toward  the  end 
of  the  ct'ntury  in  the  colonial  possessions  of  Spain,  and 
which  in  (Tuatcmala  receiv(>d  its  cue  from  Mexico, 
WIS  directed  almost  wholly  to  the  acquisition  of  ii'  w 
sciiuitific  and  philosophic  learning  by  the  higher  classes, 
with  a  slight  general  dissemination  of  more  practnal 


WRITINGS  OF  TIIK  POXQUKRORS. 


401 


Knowledge.  In  Aiuihiiac  abori^jfiiial  subjects  received 
\i  TV  iiaturallv  a  jjood  deal  of  attention  at  the  same 
tiiiir;  but  in  Central  Aincriea  the  etlurts  in  this  field 
wen;  eomparativily  t'ceble,  i>artly  beeauw  the  field 
|»i(.>ed  less  varied,  partly  because  less  material  ex- 
i.>t"(l  to  I'orni  a  base  for  research,  and  to  alluie  and 
l^uide  the  investigator.  There  were  also  less  j>oj)ula- 
tieu,  wealth,  and  emulation  to  encourage  anti(|uarian 
au'l  historic  labor. 

The  scattered  and  fragmentary  nature  of  th(^  con- 
trihutioiis  to  the  colonial  history  should  liave  proved 
incentive  enough  for  a  more  complete  and  comprc  hen- 
sive  account,  replete  as  those  writings  are  with  .stir- 
ring incidents,  often  related  in  a  manner  b<»tli  gra[)hic 
and  elo(pient.  For  instance,  in  the  Hdnn'on  of  J'edro 
Ahiirado  which  jtresents  tlu'fii'st  view  of  (Guatemala, 
\V(i  find  a  vivid  «lescription  of  scenes  and  events  con- 
nected with  the  conquest,  and  this  by  a  leader  fjunous 
alike  for  his  daring  exjiloits  and  his  cruel  ilisp<tsition. 
The  latt(<r  stands  forth  in  bold  relief  above  every 
(itlier  trait,  thouujh  closelv  liid<(.'d  with  restlessn(,'ss 
and  and)ition,  with  an  indomitable  will  that  supersti- 
li'Mi  alone  could  bend.  Simple  is  the  diction  t>f  the 
si.l(n(>r,  and  terse  like  his  words  of  command,  while 
an  achnirable  clearness  pervades  the  whole. 

I'ljually  stirring  though  less  revolting  arc  the 
('(irtitK  of  his  chief,  Cortes  himself,  who.se  famous 
march  to  Honduras  and  ojvrations  there  occupy  a 
large  s])ace  in  his  letters.  While  the  lieutenant  ile- 
li^lits  in  slaughter  and  wades  in  blootl,  the  chief  ex- 
liiliits  his  endurance  and  in»jjenuit\"  in  transporting  a 
•jfcat  army  across  vast  marshes  and  over  mighty 
rivers,  guiding  it  through  trackless  forests  and  arid 
(lesei'ts,  and  climl)ing  cloud-clapped  ranges.  The  lat- 
ter struggles  against  the  forces  of  nature,  against 
sickness  and  hunger;  now  to  set  the  exanqjle  in  for- 
titude, encouraging  the  faint-hearted  and  succoring 
the  feeble;  now  to  circumvent  a  treacherous  foe; 
again  to  <]uell  a  consi)iracy,  or  to  overcome  some  for- 


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462 


LITERATURE  OF  CENTRAL  AMERICA. 


ill; 


midable  barrier.  Never  did  this  man  appear  a  grcaVi 
hero ;  never  did  his  varied  talents  shine  to  grt  atcv 
advantage.  Tlie  subtlety  of  the  diplomatist  coiuhine 
with  the  energy  and  resources  ot  the  leader  and  tl.c 
frankness  of  the  soldier,  while  religious  fanaticism  is 
softened  by  a  naive  reliance  on  providence.  All  these 
qualities  are  displayed  in  his  writings,  which  rise  far 
above  the  average  of  the  time  in  purity  and  clearness, 
fluency  and  conciseness;  evincing  also  a  training  in 
rhetoric,  legal  forms  and  business  habits.  His  Latin 
is  introduced  with  taste,  mingled  with  courtly  plinises, 
and  occasionally  an  ornamented  sentence  reveals  a 
pen  which  had  oft  enough  dabbled  in  verse,  l^veii 
the  easy  flowing  diction  of  Gomara,  his  biograplKr, 
sometime  professor  of  rhetoric,  pales  before  the  out- 
pouring of  this  great  mind  moulded  in  experiences  so 
varied. 

What  a  contrast  do  we  find  in  the  pages  of  the  con- 
temporary Oviedo,  who  covers  more  particularly  the 
soutliern  provuices  of  Central  America,  where  he 
himself  figured.  He  had  a  passion  for  writing  which 
gratified  itself  in  bulky  folios,  but  he  lacked  the  power 
to  plan  and  to  generalize,  and  the  aptitude  to  profit 
by  his  manifold  lessons.  Thus,  while  aiming  at  judi- 
cious treatment  he  loses  himself  in  the  vastness  of  his 
subject,  and  presents  a  series  of  versions  as  they  reach 
him ;  often  repeating,  now  entering  into  tiresome  de- 
tails, now  skimming  the  surface  or  making  mere  use- 
less allusions.  While  striving  to  be  concise,  he  be- 
comes verbose  and  ramblinix,  yet  he  redeems  hiniseif 
somewhat  in  occasional  displays  of  eloquence  and 
purity  of  style.  While  possessing  no  less  litoraiy 
education  than  Cortes,  he  shows  less  ability  and  taste 
in  using  it,  in  criticism  and  diction.  Later  his  inclina- 
tion for  gossip  and  moralizing  was  allowed  freer  range 
than  ever. 

Unscrupulous,  like  the  rest  of  the  early  colonists 
and  conquerors,  the  cavalier  Oviedo  attracted  the 
frown  of  the  ecclesiastic  Las  Casas,  the  chanipien  (f 


EARLY   HISTORIANS. 


463 


oppressed  natives,  whose  tonj^ue  and  pen  were  equally 
al)sc)rbod  by  his  noble  cause,  to  defend  his  charge  and 
to  lash  the  persecutor.  But  his  fiery  zeal  too  often 
carried  him  away.  While  Oviedo  used  little  discrini- 
illation  in  accepting  any  version,  or  incident,  or  nat- 
ural phenomenon.  Las  Cases  as  readily  listened  to  ac- 
cusations which  national  pride  alone  should  have  urged 
him  to  sift  ere  he  used  them  to  damn  his  countrymen. 
Intent  chiefly  on  his  great  cause,  he  was  easily 
swayed  in  most  directions  by  partiality,  and  lils  ab- 
sorption promoted  carelessness  in  diction  as  well  as 
facts  and  treatment.  All  tliis  tends  to  detract  from 
the  viijjilant  subtletv  attributed  to  him  bv  his  learned 
opponent  Sepulveda ;  but  his  fluency  of  thought  and 
expression  is  evident,  and  marked  by  frequent  out- 
bursts of  stirring  eloquence  and  strains  of  biting  irony. 

Gomara  availed  himself  of  these  preceding  authori- 
ties to  form  a  general,  concise  wt)rk,  wherein,  however, 
he  sacrificed  truth  and  research  to  style  and  partisan 
spirit  in  the  effort  to  please  his  patron  and  to  court 
popularity.  This  roused  the  ire  of  the  soldier,  Ber- 
nal  Diaz,  jealous  for  the  prestige  of  himself  and  his 
conu-ades.  Printed  books,  private  memoranda,  and  a 
soiiunvhat  treacherous  memor}^  all  serve  him  in  his 
striving  for  truth,  and  in  contrast  to  his  opponent  he 
sacrifices  for  this,  style,  and  to  a  certain  extent,  popu- 
larity. But  it  is  not  a  voluntary  surrender;  for  per- 
sonal vanity,  and  a  sympathy  for  brotliers-in-arms, 
prompt  him  to  sturdily  vindicate  his  own  party. 
Tliough  others  suffer  somewhat,  yet  he  is  not  ungen- 
erous. As  for  style,  this  has  been  irremediably 
neglected,  amid  the  toils  of  the  camj)aign  and  j)ioneer 
life.  He  is  graphic,  however,  in  bringing  before  us 
sc(>nes  and  adventures  from  camp  and  field,  and  grows 
animated  and  pathetic  by  turns;  but  the  garrulous 
tendency  is  strongest,  and  leads  to  wearisome  details 
and  digressions. 

In  the  Italian,  Benzoni,  we  find  a  less  generous  and 
frank  spirit.     His  motive  for  writing  was  chiefly  per- 


464 


LITERATURE  OF  CENTRAL  AMERICA. 


sonal  spite,  which  peers  forth  in  sarcasms  and  exagge- 
rations, or  even  falsehoods,  while  a  ready  credulity 
allows  free  entrance  to  vague  gossip,  quite  in  kee[)ing 
witli  his  uncultured  style.  But  he  is  valuable  in  pre- 
senting testimony  not  partial  to  the  Spaniards. 

Toward  tlie  end  of  the  first  century,  Herrera,  the 
royal  historiographer,  appears  to  combine  all  these 
and  other  narrations  into  one  general  history,  and  to 
become  the  standard  historian  for  his  field  and  period. 
But  liis  examination  of  material  is  not  careful,  and 
liis  method  is  faulty.  A  slavishly  chronological  treat- 
ment interferes  with  the  spirit  of  the  narrative,  and 
breaks  the  interest ;  religious  and  patriotic  zeal  over- 
rule trutli  and  humanity,  and  a  bald  and  prolix  style 
tires  the  reader. 


What  an  opportunity  is  here  among  so  many  frag- 
mentary and  faulty  versions  to  complete,  to  coui})ile, 
to  summarize,  to  restudy  and  comment,  with  .such 
varied  models,  and  attain  results  prominent  for  sim- 
plicity and  clearness,  for  purity  and  eloquence,  for 
conci.seness  and  discrimination,  for  truth  and  order, 
while  the  contrasting  and  more  general  defects  serve 
for  the  same  end  by  warning  the  student  1  The  ap[)eal 
was  not  uidieeded  by  colonial  men,  l)ut  they  were 
cramped  by  false  training,  and  party  spirit  ruled  high, 
so  that  models  and  warninj^s  served  to  stiniulate  zoul 
rather  than  direct  the  method. 

The  first  to  awake  to  the  necessity  for  a  spcoinl 
work  on  Guatemalan  history  were  the  Dominicans, 
who  from  their  centre  in  Chiapas  exercised  a  w'ulo 
influence.  Antonio  de  Remesal  was  intrusted  with 
the  task  of  compiling  the  records  of  their  religious 
provincia,  interweaving  it  with  secular  events.  He 
proceeded  with  extraordinary  diligence  to  ransack 
diff'erent  archives  which  were  then,  in  the  opening  t)l' 
the  seventeenth  century,  in  good  condition,  and  lie 
was  also  exact,  as  may  bo  noticed  in  both  facts  and 


GUATEMALAN  HISTORY. 


465 


style ;  yet  the  latter  is  clear  and  pleasing,  and  com- 
paratively free  from  redundancy.  The  bias  of  the 
zealous  friar  is  strikingly  apparent  wherever  his  order 
is  concerned,  and  here  coloring  and  assertion  are  made 
subordinate  to  feeling,  and  to  what  he  deems  duty, 
while  the  imagination  is  largely  drawn  upon  for 
speeches  and  conversation  wherewith  to  uphold  Do- 
minican prestige.  On  the  other  hand  he  strives,  in  imi- 
tation of  Las  Casas,  as  champion  of  the  Indians,  to 
lasli  their  oppressors,  and  this  with  a  fearlessness  that 
evoked  a  storm  against  his  book  before  it  was  pub- 
lished. Otherwise  he  upholds  the  colonists,  and 
sliows  often  a  graceful  forbearance  that  covers  many 
objections. 

For  a  whole  century  did  the  Historia  de  Chyapa  of 
lu  niesal  flaunt  before  the  world  the  supremacy  of  the 
Dominicans  in  this  region,  to  the  ill-suppressed  anger 
of  the  Franciscans.  At  last,  in  1714,  the  latter  gave 
vent  to  their  feelings  in  the  Chronica  de  la  Provincia 
del  Santissimo  Nombre  de  Jems  de  Guatemala,  by  Fran- 
cisco Vazquez,  printed  at  Guatemala,  a  circumstance 
which  renders  it  more  thoroughly  a  part  of  Central 
American  literature.  It  lacks,  however,  the  ability 
and  pertinent  research  manifest  in  many  preceding 
works.  It  displays,  no  doubt,  a  certain  amount  of 
investigation,  but  also  a  large  amount  of  culling  from 
Remesal,  and  other  ready  sources,  without  giving  due 
credit,  and  it  dwindles  in  the  main  features  rather 
into  an  argument;  against  the  claims  of  the  opposite 
order,  taking,  on  every  possible  occasion,  a  contrary 
view.  In  this  eifort  on  behalf  of  his  brotherhood, 
Vazquez  shows  as  little  hesitation  as  the  other  party 
to  exaggerate  and  misinterpret,  and  he  freely  upholds 
the  Franciscan  plea  for  cooperation  of  the  cross  and 
sword,  by  stoutly  defending  the  conduct  of  the  con- 
querors, and  declaring  the  Indians  undeserving  of  the 
sympathy  lavished  upon  them  by  artificial  piety. 
These  weaknesses  are  not  redeemed  by  literary  treat- 
ment, for  the  arrangement  is  defective,  guided  greatly 


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466 


LITERATURE  OF  CENTRAL  AMERICA. 


%, 


'1  I 


by  unreflcctintr  impulse,  and  a  large  part  of  the  work 
is  occupied  with  verbose  details  concerning  obscure 
friars, which  reflect  on  the  discrinunation  of  the  writer, 
as  compared  with  the  more  clear-sighted  and  concise 
Remesal.  The  latter  opens  his  volume  with  ap[)r(v 
priate  directness,  wliile  Vazquez  begins  with  a  conven- 
tional preamble  of  the  pulpit  order.  The  phraseology 
is  rambling  and  involved,  and  the  diction  tiorid, 
with  a  frequent  parade  of  Latin  and  scholastic  quota- 
tions. The  latter  features  are  by  no  moans  regarded 
as  blemishes  among  Spaniards,  with  whom  the  inflated 
cultismo  was  still  at  its  heiglit,  never,  indeed,  to  be 
wholly  eradicated  from  the  language,  for  it  accorded 
V  ith  the  very  traits  of  the  people. 

The  same  observations  apply  almost  exactly  to  tlie 
Recordadon  Florida  de  la  Historia  de  Guatemala,  written 
two  decades  before  by  Fuentes  y  Guzman,  but  nevir 
published.  It  forms  the  first  recognized  secular  his- 
tory of  Guatemala,  and  has  for  us  the  additional  in- 
terest that  the  author  is  not  only  a  Creole,  but  a  de- 
scendant of  the  soldier  chronicler  Bernal  Diaz,  w]io 
settled  in  the  old  city  of  Guatemala  where  Fuentes 
was  born.  With  such  family  traditions  one  cannot 
expect  from  him  an^^thing  but  a  blind  advocacy  of 
the  acts  of  the  conquerors,  and  the  policy  of  the  colo- 
nists ;  he  not  only  disregards  testimony  and  suppresses 
damaging  facts,  but  he  inserts  statements  to  suit  his 
aim.  The  style  shows  a  ready  appreciation  of  (J(')n- 
gora's  school;  but  it  is  redeemed  by  consideral^le 
descriptive  power,  with  not  infrequent  elegance  of 
diction.* 

While  Fuentes  y  Guzman  is  entitled  to  the  repre- 
sentative place  as  historian  of  Guatemala,  it  has  Iteen 
occupied  before  the  world  by  Domingo  Juarros,  wliose 
Historia  de  Guatemala  is  the  only  well-known  work  on 
this  country  for  colonial  times.  He  came  across  the 
manuscripts  of  his  predecessor,  and  perceived  at  onee 
his  opportunity.  The  country  was  ripe  to  receive 
such  revelations,  for  the  wave  of  intellectual  awaken- 


GUATEMALAN  HISTORY. 


467 


ing  liad  rolled  across  tlie  Atlantic,  and  aroused  a 
Tiiorc  vivid  interest  in  history.  He  liad  tlie  tact,lio\v- 
evor,t()  create  a  special  interest  in  his  book  by  call- 
iiin-  it  a  history  of  the  capital,  and  by  tlie  clever 
immceuvre  of  devoting  a  large  space  to  the  biography 
of  her  notable  men.  "No  existiendo  su  historia, 
siiu)  es  en  el  deseo  de  los  verdadoros  patriotas,"  he  adds. 
Ho  recognizes  geography  and  chronology  as  the  "two 
eyes"  of  history,  and  promises  to  use  both.  He  ac- 
cordingly opens  the  volumes  with  the  aid  of  the 
former,  applying  it  successively  to  every  province  in 
Central  America;  for  Guatemala,  as  the  leading 
state,  was  often  assumed  to  comprise  those  to  the 
south.  The  capital,  the  cherished  city  of  his  l)irth, 
receives  special  attention  In  her  buildings,  institutions, 
and  renowned  children  and  leaders.  This  has  evi- 
dently been  a  labor  of  love,  for  a  good  deal  of  inves- 
tit;ati()n  is  exhibited  in  connection  with  archives  of 
cliiu'ch  and  state,  to  which  his  position  as  synodal 
examiner  procured  his  ready  access.  In  the  second 
volume  he  confines  himself  more  particularly  to  his- 
tory, beginning  with  pre-conquest  times,  which  apply 
only  to  Guatemala  for  want  of  even  traditional 
records  elsewhere.  In  taking  up  the  account  of  sub- 
jugation and  settlement  by  Spaniards  he  passes  from 
one  province  to  another,  and  seeks  to  complete  the 
narrative  by  adding  institutional  matter  and  curious 
items.  The  book  is  just  what  one  might  expect  for  a 
country  little  written  upon,  and  from  a  n)an  eager  to 
tell  all  about  it.  Not  that  he  is  exhaustive,  for  he 
fails  to  })resent  any  adequate  view  of  society  and  in- 
dustrial condition,  and  in  the  history  he  follows  the 
unreliable  Fuentes  without  exercisina:  due  care  or 
(liscrnnmation,  or  supplementing  with  sufficient  addi- 
tional investigation.  This,  toijether  with  the  lack  of 
sequence  and  symmetry,  imparts  a  fragmentary  and 
unsatisfactory  character  to  the  work,  which  is  besides 
unrolicved  by  any  beauty  of  diction ;  yet  the  style 
possesses  a  conciseness  and  clearness  that  is  remark- 


468 


LITERATURE  OF  CENTRAL  AMERICA. 


.' !  ;^: 


able  for  a  preacher  of  Spanish  America.  Efiually 
refreshini^  is  the  comparative  freedom  from  bigotry 
and  cretiulity  in  a  Koinan  eathoHc  priest  of  tliis 
remote  corner,  except  when  treading  on  scientific  or 
otlicr  new  ground.  He  rarely  intrudes  his  \m]\nt 
sentences,  and  if  he  occasionally  upholds  niinicks 
and  asceticism,  it  is  but  duty  to  his  profession." 

Among  representative  historical  writers  of  the  pres- 
ent century,  must  be  placed  Doctor  Francisco  do  ]  'aula 
(rarcia  Pelaez,  archbishop  of  Guatemala,  whose  Mt mo- 
rias  para  la  Hwtorla  de  Guatemala  present  tlie  most 
complete  account  of  colonial  times  in  Central  Anicrita. 
He  treats  less  of  ancient  history  and  conquest,  wliicli 
more  than  one  accessible  author  has  fully  spoken  of, 
but  displays  close  observation  on  subsequent  matter, 
with  particular  attention  to  institutions  and  society, 
to  government  policy  and  the  unfolding  of  trade,  in- 
dustries, education,  thus  approaching  closely  to  later 
ideas  as  to  what  should  constitute  materia]  for  the 
history  of  a  people.  To  this  end  he  has  applied  re- 
search of  no  slight  extent,  and  a  careful  arrangement, 
without  pretending  to  offer  a  history  in  the  proper 
sense  of  the  word.  Indeed,  the  work  is  rather  a  series 
of  collected  statements  from  different  authorities,  ar- 
ranged under  topics  and  in  historic  sequence,  with  lit- 
tle or  no  attempt  to  present  or  to  reconcile  differences, 
or  to  combine  scattered  facts  or  hints  in  explanatory 
or  complimentary  shape,  or  to  offer  conclusions  wliieh 
should  result  from  analysis  and  comparison.  Xor  has 
any  use  been  made  of  foot-notes,  wherewith  to  relieve 
the  text  from  trivial  details  and  bare  references,  which 
are  therefore  left  to  interfere  with  the  connection  and 
obstruct  the  style.  There  is  no  effort  in  the  latter  di- 
rection, however,  and  even  stirring  incidents  are  relattd 
without  the  least  animation;  yet  the  language  is  pure 
and  clear,  and  the  sentences  smooth. 

The  valuable  features  of  Palaez'  work  become  more 
conspicuous  when  contrasted  with  other  contributions 
in  this  field,  of  the  same  period.     These  are  chiefly 


FlPwST  TRINTINO. 


400 


political  pamphlets  by  loaders  or  hangers-on  in  defense 
of  i)arties  or  individuals,  full  of  loud  assertion  and 
boin'oast,  sustained  by  fiery  emphasis,  and  disguised 
by  rambling  digression.  Occasionally  the  compact 
vet  disjointed  style,  with  its  forensic  stamp,  drifts  into 
reiteration  and  mere  bombast,  with  faulty  punctuation, 
revealing  in  both  forms  the  crudencss  of  diction  and 
phraseology.  The  use  of  foot-notes  is  little  understood, 
but  tliore  is  usually  an  ap[)endix  with  corroborative 
documents.  Superior  to  these  in  style  are  the  produc- 
tions of  such  men  as  Alejandro  Morure,  tliough  occa- 
sionally marked  by  ill-sustained  efforts  at  florid  decla- 
mation/ As  for  sifting  of  evidence,  study,  and 
deduction,  there  is  little  or  none.  The  domination  of 
idea,  party,  or  passion  is  almost  everywhere  glaringly 
apparent,  together  with  a  glossy  superficiality  that 
shields  the  unstable  reasoning  of  the  polemic,  and  the 
lack  of  profundity  in  his  attainments. 

The  scantiness  and  defects  of  Central  American 
literature  are  greatly  due,  as  I  liave  intimated,  to  the 
paucity  and  scattered  distribution  of  the  population, 
and  in  modern  times  above  all,  to  the  continual 
civil  wars  which  have  absorbed  the  attention  of 
the  superior  classes,  and  created  such  disorder  and 
neglect  of  progressive  measures  as  to  keep  the  masses 
in  abject  ignorance,  and  greatl}''  to  diminish  the  means 
for  iiistructhig  the  rest.  Spain  was  ever  the  classic 
country  from  which  the  colonists  drew  their  knowledge 
and  obtained  their  models,  and  so  it  still  remains,  wide 
a.^  the  political  and  social  gulf  may  be  between  them. 
V/ith  so  small  a  circle  of  readers,  those  fitted  and  called 
to  wield  the  pen  found  little  encouragement,  at  least 
^or  wirks  of  an  ambitious  character.  Heavy  as  well 
t  s  hght  literature  was  brought  from  across  the  sea, 
himJ  from  Mexico,  a  fair  proportion  coming  from  France, 
for  whose  people  and  productions  a  warm  sympathy 
lia^  always  existed,  and  whose  language  found  ready 
learners  from  its  similarity  to  the  Spanish. 


470 


LITERATURE  OP  CENTRAL  AMERICA. 


The  backward  condition  of  literature  can  bo  readily 
understood  when  it  is  learned  that  the  printing  press 
waji  not  introduced  at  Guatemala  until  1060,  \y\mi 
Joseph  do  Pineda  Ibarra  figures  as  the  first  priutLT.' 
The  first  publication  is  said  to  have  been  a  letter  l)y 
President  Caldas  to  the  king  concerning  the  couipust 
of  the  Lacandon  country;  but  the  claim  to  be  tlx;  first 
book  is  made  for  Relacion  de  la  Vida  y  Vlrtudcs  del  I ' 
Hermano  Pedro  de  San  Joseph  Betancur,  Guatemala, 
1GG7,  by  Manuel  Lobo."  After  this,  publication  he- 
came  not  infrequent;  for  works  from  all  parts  of  Cen- 
tral America,  hitherto  sent  to  Spain  or  Mexico  to  he 
printed,  were  now  forwarded  to  Guatemala,  which  lias 
ever  maintained  the  lead  over  the  other  states,  owiii'i 
to  its  greater  population  and  mterests.  Some  of  the 
provinces  to  the  south  did  not  obtain  presses  till  long 
after  the  independence. 

Guatemala  early  followed  the  example  set  in  !Mex- 
ico  of  issuing  a  periodical,  a  monthly  Gacda,  started 
in  1729  by  Sebastian  de  Arevalo,  which  has  amid 
diflferent  suspensions  and  revivals  managed  to  pass 
into  the  present  century,  and  to  sustain  itself  later  as 
a  weekly,  and  generally  as  the  oflficial  organ/'  In 
1797  Villaurrutia  began  to  publish  a  weekly  paper  in 
connection  with  his  Sociedad  Economica,  devoted  t(j 
general  advancement,  both  of  which  sufl'ered  tempo- 
rary suppression  as  too  advanced  in  spirit  for  the 
Spanish  government.  In  1820  two  journals  appeared, 
and  after  this  new  ones  spring  up  almost  every  year, 
occasionally  as  many  as  ten  within  the  twelve  months, 
although  few  survive.  Among  the  other  states  Sal- 
vador follows  with  about  twenty-four  journals  witliin 
eighteen  years,  beginning  in  1824,  less  than  half  the 
number  issued  in  Guatemala.  Honduras  has  eleven 
within  thirteen  years,  and  Nicaragua  nine,  both  be- 
ginning in  1830  ;  Costa  Rica  falls  to  seven  between 
1832  and  1842,  and  Panamd  decHnes  to  even  less." 
They  were  with  rare  exceptions  political  organs,  full 
of  polemics  and  stale  news,  with  occasionally  scien- 


RELIGIOUS  BIOGRAPHY. 


471 


tific  articles,  and  feuilletons  translated  or  copied  from 
foirin'ii  papers. 

Liberty  of  the  press  entered  with  the  independence, 
only  to  find  itself  obstructed  or  suppressed  now  by 
sDiao  dictator,  anon  by  formal  law  from  legislatures, 
yet  with  intervals  of  absolute  freedom.  The  most 
severe  legislative  measure  appeared  in  1852,  when 
close  government  censorship  was  established." 

One  effect  of  the  independence,  and  the  dissemina- 
tion of  liberal  ideas  from  Franco,  manifested  itself  in 
a  lessened  rcligi(jus  feeling  among  the  educated 
classes,  which  has  finally  led  to  the  suppression  of 
convents,  and  to  a  diminished  influence  for  the  clergy 
with  every  successive  effort  of  theirs  to  assert  them- 
selves. This  is  only  too  apparent  in  the  bulk  of  po- 
litical pamphlets  which  in  modern  times  form  the 
iiiuiii  feature  of  publications,  replacing  the  former 
excessive  production  of  theological  treatises,  sermons, 
and  saintly  biography. 

Of  the  last  class  we  find  good  specimens  in  Lobo's 
Pukiclim  de  la  Vida  de  Bdaiicur,  already  mentioned  as 
the  first  book  proper  issued  in  Central  America,  in 
Antonio  de  Siria's  Vida  de  la  Venerable  Doiia  Aim 
(I'ncna,  and  in  such  works  as  Remesal  and  Vazquez. 
The  latter,  for  that  matter,  rewrote  Lobo's  Eelaiiom, 
and  made  copious  additions  to  the  biography  of  Be- 
tanour,  who  was  highly  venerated  in  the  countrj^  as  a 
religious  founder  and  humanitarian.'*  This  work  is  in 
the  usual  exalted,  visionary  spirit  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  with  special  prominence  to  abstract  and  as- 
cetic features,  the  monotony  of  which  Vazquez  has 
increased  with  his  verbose  inflation,  rambling  phrase- 
ology, and  florid  diction.  Yet  the  last  would  no 
doubt  add  to  the  interest  for  lovers  of  such  lore, 
while  the  earnestness  pervading  every  line,  and  the 
mysticism,  serve  to  impress  on  the  devout  the  lesson 
intended  to  be  inculcated. 


I 


479 


LITERATURE  OF  CENTRAL  AMERICA. 


M. 


In  colonial  times  the  oratory  of  tlio  liar  aiul  i>iil|)it 
was  never  allowed  the  full  ran^a-  accorded  in  prole  s- 
tant  Europe,  where  appeals  reached  the  head  as  \V(  11 
as  the  heart.  With  the  liberty  conferred  by  revtlu- 
tion  and  fostered  by  the  debates  of  assenibhes  and  the 
demand  of  elections,  the  pent-up  spirit  found  free  V(  nt, 
and  astonished  itself  by  its  rapidity  of  prc)<j[ress  in  I  his 
new  path.  A  vivacious  temperament,  a  ready  How  u( 
words,  and  the  stirring  subjects  of  national  birtii  and 
men  consecrated  to  the  people  as  heroes  and  martyis, 
all  assisted  to  impart  an  eloquence  wliich  met  with 
prompt  response  among  an  emotional  audience. 
Depth  and  logical  sequence  were  lacking,  however,  and 
rules  of  elocution  were  not  allowed  to  interfere  greatly 
with  the  natural  How  and  the  impulsive  rather  tluin 
studied  emphasis  so  frequently  employed,  and  so  ciiui- 
aeteristic  of  the  oratory. 

The  revival  in  learning,  which  became  manifest 
toward  tlie  end  of  the  eighteenth  century,  naturally 
gave  an  impulse  to  the  demand  for  works  of  a  sciiii- 
tific  nature,  notably  in  connection  with  industrial  aits, 
as  indicated  by  the  reports  of  tlie  Sociedad  Economic  a 
begun  in  1707;  but  the  disorders  under  republican 
rule  have  allowed  far  less  room  for  jnogress  in  this 
direction  than  could  be  expected  from  the  promisiiiu 
number  of  names  which,  during  the  later  colonial 
period,  are  connected  with  similar  topics. 

Bias  de  Pineda  y  Polanco  had,  in  beginning  of  tlif 
eighteenth  century,  collected  27  volumes  of  material 
on  natural  history  and  geograpliy,  in  dictionary  form. 
with  illustrations.  The  most  ambitious  ettbrts  weiv 
by  Juan  de  Padilla,  a  presb3'ter,  who  wrote  on  matin  - 
matics  and  astronomy,  the  latter  subject  embraced  in 
a  bulky  manuscript  folio  of  585  pages  entitled  Tcorlcn 
y  prdctica  de  la  astronomia.  He  was  long  an  authority 
in  this  branch  for  Guatemala.  Fuentes  speaks  of  an 
earlier  student  in  the  field,  Juan  Jacinto  (ninido. 
The  Creole  friar  Joaquin  Calcleron  de  la  Barca  figured 
as  a  mathematician  about  1735 ;  while  Ignacio  Ceballos 


RCIEXTIFIC  WORKS. 


47S 


of  Guatemala  became  an  aradcinician  of  Spain  and 
assisted  in  t'onnin^  the  first  great  dictionary." 

The  great  variety  of  Indian  tribes  in  tliis  extensive 
rc;j;ii>n,  which  attracted  the  missionary  zeal,  gave  riso 
t(t  a  number  of  linguistic  productions,  wherein  Friar 
Francisco  Jimenez  shines  with  particular  lustre.  I 
have  collected  a  number  of  these  works,  vocabularies, 
grammars,  and  religious  text-books,  in  connection 
with  my  studitJS  on  aboriginal  languages  as  expressed 
ill  my  Native  Iiacc>i,  but  Brasseur  do  Bourbourg  api)lied 
Iiiiusolf  more  especially  to  the  subject,  as  indicated 
ill  iiis  several  writings. 

Ill  this  connection  must  be  mentioned  the  Ui.^oria 
dc  la  Creadon  del  Cicio  y  <le  la  Tierm  by  Bamon  de 
Ordonez,  presbyter.  Assisted  by  the  aboriginal  rec- 
ords and  traditions  and  the  hieroglyphics  aiui  scul[)- 
tures  at  the  then  recently  discovered  Paleiicjue.  the 


author  attempts  t( 


)  r\T 


nl. 


in  the  Maya  theory  of  the 


cnation,  and  to  follow  the  wandenngs  and  adventures 
of  tlie  founders  of  the  cultured  nations  in  tliis  rt  gion. 
Guided  by  the  scripture,  he  finds  no  difficulty  in  con- 
necting them  with  Chaldca,  ami  in  sui)[)orting  this 
assumption  by  a  comparison  of  rites  and  customs. 
Tlie  ingenuity  and  boldness  of  his  interpretations  are 
as  striking  as  the  transparency  of  his  arguments. 
But  the  mystic  nature  of  the  subject,  the  evidiMit  re- 
search, and  the  profusion  of  reference  and  learned 
allusions,  all  lend  a  glamour  to  the  book  that  sustains 
the  earnestness  and  hiy:h  character  of  the  author."' 


Spanish  poets  have  not  failed  to  seize  upon  the 
grand  achievements  connected  with  discovery  and 
coiKiuest  in  America,  unsurpassed  for  range,  interest, 
and  beauty.  Nevertheless  these  themes  have  been 
left  in  a  great  measure  to  the  conquerors  themselves, 
such  as  Castellanos,  who,  in  his  Elegias  de  Vartmes 
f lustres  de  Imh'as,  ambitiously  seeks  to  cover  th(>  whole 
field,  and  to  commemorate  the  glories  of  all  the  lead- 
ing heroes  from  Columbus*  time  far  into  the  opening 


474 


LITERATURE  OF  CENTRAL  AMERICA. 


century  of  Spanish  rule.  His  is  ratlier  a  versified 
narrative, however,of  varying  form,  with  vivid  descrip- 
tion of  incidents  and  novelties,  yet  combined  with  a 
great  smoothness  and  rare  purity  of  diction.  The  stir- 
ring deeds  of  the  Castilian  invaders  are  related  hy 
him  in  a  very  incomplete  maimer,  yet  the  creole  de- 
scendants of  those  invaders  have  not  felt  moved  to 
continue  the  song  of  the  soldier  bard.  Their  versili- 
cation  was  confined  chiefiy  to  odes  and  sonnets  on  tliu 
occasion  of  birthdays  anu  other  celebrations  in  honor 
of  royalty  or  high  officials,  and  more  andjitious  efibits 
soUL;^t  rather  a  foreign  and  seennn<>lv  more  alluriii'-' 
though  well-worn  toi)ic. 

La  Thonumada  of  Friar  Diego  Saenz  is  a  passallo 
epic  on  the  angelic  doctor,  and  noticeable  here  ratlur 
as  one  of  the  first  publications  of  (Guatemala.  Of 
greater  interest  is  Raphael  luandivixvH  Iiusficdfio  Mcri- 
caiKi,  a  didactic  poem  in  initation  of  the  'jlconjics',  em- 
bracing natural  features,  resources,  and  industries  of 
Central  America  as  well  as  Mexico.  Landivar  was;i 
native  of  Guatemala,  and  professor  there  of  rhetoiic 
and  i)irdoso[)hy  in  the  Jesuit  college.  On  the  ex})ul- 
sion  of  the  societ}'  in  17()7,  he  })r()ceeded  like  most 
of  the  members  to  Italy,  there  to  seek  consolatiitii  in 
literary  labors.  The  Ru^ilimtio  contains  the  outgrow- 
ing of  his  very  soul,  while  reviewing  scenes  dear  to 
his  memory,  and  displaying  to  the  world  the  wealth 
and  beauty  of  his  native  land.  In  the  tledicatory 
verses  to  Guatemala,  the  longing  of  the  exile  and  the 
love  of  the  patriot  find  a  touching  expression.  The 
selection  of  Latin  instead  of  S[)anish  nnist  be  attiili- 
uted  both  to  his  environment  while  writing,  and  to 
the  pride  of  the  scholar,  who  entertained  a  hope  that 
tlic  v/ork  might  be  adopted  as  a  text  book  in  his  e)V.ii 
country — an  expectation  not  unfairly  based  on  an 
appropriate  subject,  a  pure  diction  and  classic  form. 

The  ready  ada[)tation  of  the  Spanish  language  to 
classic  verse  has  led  to  several  minor  imitations,  nota- 
bly in  Virgil's  vein,  but  they  are  seldom  above  the 


POETRY  AXD  SONG. 


475 


barest  anrl  dullest  mediocrity.  Instance  the  eclogue 
of  Ruiz  y  Lara  in  honor  of  the  prominent  Nicaraguan, 
Jjarrcynaga,  of  1834.  The  glorious  memories  of  the 
indopondence  have  provided  appropriate  and  freer 
topics,  to  be  revived  at  the  annual  celebration,  largely 
in  satiric  form.  The  feelings  of  the  vanquished  patriot 
and  exile  seek  utterance  at  every  turn  of  fortune's 
wheel,  while  woman  reigns  supreme  above  all  in  her 
power  to  inspire,  as  may  readily  be  understood  with 
rc;^ard  to  a  people  so  devoted  to  gallantry  and  other 
amenities  of  society. 

The  ode  and  the  elegiac  strain  appear  to  be  the 
hap})iest  efforts,  and  octaves  of  undecasyllabic  triple 
in(-asure  tlie  most  common  form.  A  poetry  which, 
like  the  Spanish,  so  readily  admits  the  free,  irregular, 
ini[)rovisatory  verse  known  as  .sv7(y/.s',  nmst  not  be 
scanned  so  rigidly  as  ours.  The  metre,  for  that  mat- 
tor,  retains  to  a  certain  extent  the  classic  features  of 
cnipliasis  and  idiomatic  rliythm,  and  the  mixture  ac- 
cords well  with  the  impulsive,  declamatory  bent  of 
the  Hispano-American.  It  requires  often  an  inter- 
pretation of  its  own,  and  this  individualit}'^  is  also 
marked  in  elocution  generally.  While  the  method 
may  bo  erratic,  it  nmst  not  be  supposed  that  the 
tlitMnc  is  such,  although  the  Spaniards  are  somewhat 
addicted  to  broad  allusions.  The  tone  of  the  amatory 
pieces  before  me  is  most  chaste,  and  i]i^  similes  be- 
long, as  a  rule,  to  the  sweeter  and  grander  elements 
iu  nature. 

As  specimens  of  elegiac  pieces  I  will  cite  from  the 
rocollections  of  an  exile  : 


Venid  con  la  luna 

Y  estrellas  brillantes, 

C'ual  ricos  diainautca 
Taiiibicii  rutilad. 

lil  rceuerdo  es  mi  perfume 
('nil  (|UL!  cl  alma  .se  adormece: 
Tii'i'iio  lirin  (jue  aparece 

Cuaiidi)  el  tudio  nos  cousiune. 


Es  pintada  maripn-sa, 

Que  vat^iiiidci  ciitro  las  flores 
Rol)a  il(!  fllas  Ids  olores, 

Que  iKis  In'iiiila  carifiosa. 

Es  mi  fi'o  dfsprendido 
l)o   CDlliirrtn    llliti'l'ioso; 

Hlaiido,  suavi%  iiiclddioso, 
Y  c'litro  Hi>ml)ras  osocnidido. 


This  is  from  the  pen  of  Juan  de  Canas,  which  also 


mm 


476 


LITERATURE  OF  CENTRAL  AMERICA. 


contributes  a  number  of  odes  and  sonnets,  the  latter 
less  liappy.  Another  poet  of  Salvador,  Carlos  Bo- 
nilla,  sings  at  the  tomb  of  a  wife : 

Tan  solo  tie  inmnrtal,  seca  corola,  Una  arboleda  plantarecon    ellos, 

Del  Saucey,del  cipres  las  tri  ■■ -js  lioja3  Melancolica  al  par   quu  fiiuuraria, 

Mo  queilau,  en  higar  de  Hore.'*  rojas,  Que  circunde  la  fosa  ciiifiaiia 

Para  adornar  tu  losa  sepulchral.  Que  uucierra   tu  despojo  terreuaL 

And  farther: 


1   '1 


Antftcsis  dolorosa, 

Que  el  corazon  ha  sufrido, 
Cual  arljolillo  batido 

Por  furioso  vcndabal. 


En  esa  cuna  me  qucda 
El  pinipollo  de  una  rosa, 
Y  en  esta  sonibria  fosa, 

Qucda  seco  mi  rosall 


Here  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  oral  ballads 
of  the  populace  arc  not  so  pure  as  might  be  desired. 
And  this  observation  leads  me  to  a  few  closing  n> 
marks  on  the  songs  of  the  Indians.  While  und(»ul»t- 
edly  retaining  many  aboriginal  features,  they  have 
been  greatly  influenced  by  Spanish  subjects,  niclocUes, 
and  rhythm,  under  constant  association  with  the  con- 
quering race,  and  diligent  training  of  priests  and 
church  choirs,  whose  art  entered  also  into  secular 
pastimes.  The  theme  concerns  the  duties  of  the  hus- 
bandman, the  hunter,  the  fisherman,  and  the  attendant 
adventures  or  dangers,  or  it  dwells  on  the  cliarins  of 
budding  woman,  with  many  a  broad  reference  to  the 
snares  laid  for  her  l)y  strangers.  Only  too  frc(|uently 
tlie  vagaries  and  weaknesses  of  the  parish  priest  meet 
with  sarcastic  exposure,  and  the  slumbering  feeling 
against  the  ruling  class,  with  its  Castilian  pride  and 
afl'ectation,  is  still  nursed  in  the  popular  verse,  which, 
moreover,  displays  a  lingering  i)redilection  for  ancient 
rites  and  superstitions,  midst  covert  sneers  at  Chris- 
tian dogmas.  Both  subject  and  form  are  simple,  of 
an  improvised  character,  with  frequent  repetition  of 
lines,  generally  in  antithetical  and  paraphrastic  form: 

He  roamed  through  the  forest  witli  axe  on  the  slioulder, 
Witli  axe  on  llie  shouhlcr  he  roamed  througli  the  forest. 
It  was  niglit    deep  niglit;  in  the  sky  not  a  moon! 
Not  a  nmon  in  the  sky;    it  was  night — deep  niglit! 


Refrain: 


FORMS  AND  CONDITIONS. 

In  the  distance  rolled  the  sea,  the  great  sea; 
Tlie  sea,  the  great  sea,  waa  heard  I'roiu  afar, 
As  it  sadly  groaned,  like  a  wounded  deer, 
Like  a  wounded  deer,  which  sadly  groans. 

With  axe  on  the  shoulder  he  roamed  through  the  forest, 
He  roamed  through  the  foreat  with  axe  on  the  shoulder. 


477 


The  iteration  is  undoubtedly  effective  despite  its 
frequency,  but  the  poetic  imagery  occasionally  indi- 
cated is  rarely  sustained.  In  alluding  to  the  charms 
of  maidens,  iiowers,  and  gold,  sunlight  and  birds  are 
generally  used  to  form  the  simile,  although  not 
always  appropriate. 

'J'ula,  the  pretty  one,  with  teeth  so  white,  with  eyes  of  gold, 
Lovod  to  roam  in  the  forest ;  around  in  the  forest  to  roam, 
The  iiowers  she  gatliered  to  adorn  her  long  tresses 
Apjieiired  in  the  gleam  of  her  eyes  so  much  brighter. 
And  little  l)irds  from  trees  around,   all  rohed  in  sunlight, 
Tiioy  iluw  when  she  came,  to  percli  on  her  lips  so  pretty, 
And  sweetly  carolling  on  her  shoulder  they  nestled. 

Satiric  compositions,  with  their  short  round  stanzas, 
contain  at  times  very  neat  epigrammatic  lines,  but  as 
a  rule  form  is  sacrificed  to  the  subject  and  euphony. 


Sweet  girls  and  young  maids, 
ri.ice  huds  in  your  hair, 

But  lot  them  liave  thorns, 
The  curate  to  sting. 


Sweet  girls  and  young  maids, 
Show  pesos  and  goM, 

And  priests  will  di.splay 
Their  old  paradise. 


The  refrain  is  not  always  fit  to  translate. 

The  stanzas  close  with  a  couplet  in  which  the  au- 
dience joins.  It  is  usually  taken  from  the  opening 
lines,  or  consists  of  a  meaningless  jingle. 

A  striking  feature  is  the  sad  strain  which  enters 
into  nearly  all  these  songs,  especially  toward  tJie 
close,  and  which  pervades  most  of  the  melodies. 
This  predominant  tinge  has  not  failed  to  reach  the 
poetry  generally  of  Central  America,  to  judge  by  the 
prevalence  and  success  so  far  of  elegiac  verse.  The 
satiric  and  mystic  elements  of  the  aboriginal  have  also 
left  their  impress;  the  former  accords  well  with  the 
ply,  retiring  disposition  of  the  Indians  as  compared 
with  the  other  castes,  their  suspiciousness  and  as- 
sumption of  even  more  than  their  natural  stolidity, 
while  it  also  points  to  a  lack  of  power  for  loftier  ex- 


mmm 


478 


LITERATURE  OF  CENTRAL  AMERICA. 


pression.  Similar  remarks  apply  to  the  mystic  form, 
which  supplies  with  vague  allusions  what  utterance 
fails  to  couvcy.  The  impulsive  intonation  and  bom- 
bast  manifested  in  odes  and  oratory  is,  on  the  otlicr 
hand,  from  a  Si)anish  source,  evolved  under  congenial 
circumstances  with  the  new  race,  and  given  free  sway 
by  the  revolution. 

The  independence  opened  wide  the  door  for  forei<i;n 
influence  toward  research,  method,  style,  in  all 
branches  of  knowledge  and  art,  and  the  press  seiks 
to  extend  it,  although  as  a  rule,  indirectl}',  throui^li 
the  medium  of  Mexico,  which,  under  improving  com- 
munications is  rather  strengthening  her  autlioritv  as 
the  cliief  source,  model,  and  market  for  Central 
American  readers  and  writers.  Paucity  of  popula- 
tion, and  ignorance,  and  lack  of  ambition  among  tlio 
large  proportion  of  Indians,  add  obstacles  which  it 
will  take  long  to  overcome.  The  people  must  learn 
above  all,  however,  that  peace  is  required  to  establisJi 
the  secure  pros}ierity  whicli  alone  can  give  a  fostering 
impulse  to  art  and  literature. 


^Tliere  is  f?omc  reason  tn  believe  that  the  Afayas  attained  even  to  an  nl- 
phal)et.  Tlie  sculptured  liierof;lyiihics  in  n'gular  compact  squares,  at  tmth 
Ciipau  and  PaloiKfue,  seem  identical  with  tiie  written  characters tif  surviving 
manuscripts,  and  hear  a  stamp  suporii)r  to  tlu)se  of  the  A/tecs.  Tiii'  t'.iihiiu 
of  the  several  attempted  solutions  has  not  dampened  zeal  in  tliis  directinii ; 
in  Ualif(u'nia  alone  more  than  one  student  has  taken  up  the  proljlem.  Lju 
Casas  touches  upon  the  sul)ject  elofpiently  in  hia  1114.  Apnlo;/.,  MS.,  iv. 
31)7.  The  manuscript  Troano  puhlished  hy  the  French  government,  tlio 
Dresden  Codex,  nicluded  in  Kingsbonnigh'a  work,  and  one  other  document 
in  a  European  lilirary,  are  the  only  written  specimens  left  to  us. 

"^  Scherzor  points  out  that  the  Quiche  language  does  not  distinguish  be- 
tween green  and  blue.  Xiiiiencz,  If  int.  Orij.  I  ml.,  15. 

'Brassenr  do  Bourhoiirg  joined  in  the  rush  for  relics,  but  his  effort  was  to 
save  from  destruction,  and  nohly  has  he  proven  his  intent  in  puhlieatioiH  as 
priceless  as  they  are  interesting.  Felaez,  S(piicr,  Stephens,  and  Sclicrzer  ti;;- 
ure  hy  his  side  in  rescuing  and  supplementing  the  earlier  labors  in  this  licld 
of  sucii  men  as  Jimenez.  Panamd  lost  its  archives  chiefly  by  tires,  which 
jnvolvoil  .al-io  to  a  great  extent  those  of  Nicaragua  and  other  pniviiK'i '-  de- 
pending on  (Inatemala  and  Lima.  In  Salvador  earthquakes  engulfed  imich 
material,  while  everywhere  civil  wars  by  invaders  or  factions  assisted  >'im- 
rtagrations  and  neglect  in  completing  the  destruction.  Tims  it  is  that  roeonii 
of  the  early  history  of  Central  America  nuist  l)e  sought  chielly  in  wi'rlis 
writt(!n  bi\y()n<l  its  limits,  in  Spain  and  England,  and  above  all  in  the  niiiiiu- 
8eri|)t  and  printed  collections  of  documents  issued  from  peninsular  areliivus, 
where  copiuy  uud  originals  of  letters,  reports,  and  cvcu  claburutu  bouks  on 


NOTES. 


479 


inguish  be- 


thc  prftvinccs  accumnlated,  partly  in  the  ordinary  course  of  official  routine, 
partly  in  olieilienco  to  repeated  orders  for  transmission  of  material  fortiieiise 
(,f  royal  elironielers,  '  I'ara  (jiie  se  pueda  proseguir  la  historia  general  de  laa 
Indian.'  Ikcop.  dc /ml.,  i.  GlJi). 

'Tiic  incentive  to  collect  historic  material  lay  in  the  duty  and  personal 
inotives  i)revailiiig  among  the  Kurojjean  Spaniards  who  held  nearly  all  the 
oltiL'i'-i.  Specii)iens  of  tlieir  reports  have  heen  frequently  cited  hy  me  through- 
out these  volumes  in  the  original  or  copied  manuscripts  of  Alvarado,  Mon- 
tcjo,  <iil  tionzalez,  C'ere/eda,  Estrada  tJallego,  Cadena,  Miranda,  IS'ielila, 
t'a.stcllo,  Avila,  Duarte,  Aniuon,  I/aguirre,  Hermosillo,  Velaseo,  lluya,  and 
more  from  the  Squier  collection  ;  in  the  printed  accounts  issued  in  tlic  col- 
lections by  I'acheco  and  Cardenas,  8quier,  Ternaux-Compaua,  Arevalo 
aud  otliers. 

■''  For  an  account  of  the  life  and  works  of  the  chroniclers  of  Central  Amer- 
ica, I  refer  to  the  bibliographic  notes  scattered  throughout  the  tirst  two  vol- 
umes of  my  histories  of  Central  America  and  of  Mexico. 

''Fuentes'  Korte  Politkn  forms  a  suitable  adjunct  to  his  history  in  givina 
an  at'count  of  the  duties,  privileges  and  ceremoni'!.s  of  the  ayuntaniiento  of 
(iiiatemala,  whereof  he  was  a  mend)er.  Allusion  ia  made  to  this  manuscript 
ill  tlic  records  of  the  city  council  for  1700,  which  refer  a  do/cn  years  pre- 
viously to  Fuentes'  researches  in  the  local  archives.  While  his  liistory  is  the 
first  leoogni/.ed  as  such,  Bcristain  refers  to  an  earlier  Hiatorid  da  (•'iiiifiniula 
by  Friar  K.stevan  Aviles,  wliieh  remained  in  manuscript,  and  has  disappeared. 
It  may  have  been  used  by  Fuentes.  C(>ntemj>orary  with  him  were  tiie  mili- 
tary leaders  Nicolas  de  Valenzuela  aud  I'cro  Ursiia,  engaged  in  the  coiuiuest 
(if  the  Itza  country,  of  wliicli  the  former  in  particular  wrote  a  very  minute 
ai'count.  This  and  otlier  material  was  used  by  Villagutierre  Soto-mayor 
relator  of  the  India  Council,  to  form  a  very  complete  J/iMorld  de  In  CoininiMa 
(Ir  llz'i,  with  the  necessary  information  concerning  the  discovery  and  features 
of  tiie  country.  The  book  opens  in  a  most  direct  manner,  but  drifts  gradu- 
ally into  trivial  details,  'i  lie  author  has  evidently  no  aptitude  for  llorid  eul- 
i\-n\n  ;  but  while  the  diction  is  not  intlated,  the  pliraseology  is  loose  and  in- 
vulved,  so  tliat  altogether  interest  finds  litile  means  to  sustain  itself.  The 
Work  is  rather  on  than  of  Central  America.  More  in  the  style  of  Vazquez  ia 
t!ii>  Iii/nriiic  snhrc  la  Su'ilrrc'ion  de  Aw  Zonhdi'K,  a  manuscript  of  78  folios,  by 
Filar  I'cdro  Marsclino  (larcia.  The  Creole,  .Jose  Sanchez,  wrote  a  history 
of  (iiiatemala,  MS.,  dated  1779,  but  it  is  little  known  and  by  no  means  the 
connected  or  complete  review  of  events  and  institutions  imlicated  by  the 
title.  Father  Kamou  Leal,  of  the  Dominican  order,  wrote  at  the  end  of  tlie 
seventeentli  century  the  < Inatonaiaisis  Eeckme  Mouuiiicnta,  which  relates  mora 
particularly  to  the  capital. 

'Similar  to  Juarros  in  its  descriptive  features  is  the  little  Mrnmria  Ifis- 
Uirkii  df  CliiiijMi,  by  Mariano  Robles  Dominguez  de  Mazariegos,  de[>uty  to  the 
Cortes  for  his  province,  which  shows  a  clear,  plain,  business-like  hand. 

^  For  an  account  of  these  difTorcnt  grades  of  historical  writings  and  their 
authors,  I  refer  to  the  bibliograpliic  notes  of  my  historical  volumes.     There 

I  liave  sliown  that  howe defective  the  stylo  and  treatment  may  often  be, 

the  value  of  the  contribv.^ii......  to  the  investigator  is  not  overlooked,  particu- 
larly in  sucli  instances  as  Manuel  M.  de  Peralta,  who  modestly  confines  him- 
Hcli  to  an  able  presentation  of  original  documents  on  the  history  of  Costa 
Ivica,  Nicaragua,  and  I'anami,  ratiier  than  to  strive  for  the  more  aml)iti(uis 
ctloit  of  using  them  for  historic  dissertations.  His  merit  shines  no  less 
briglitlj',  however,  in  the  \ast  research,  the  careful  arrangement,  and  the 
apjiroiiriate  notes. 

'Tlie  name  of  the  first  printer  in  Onatomala  appears  by  a  slip  as  Sbarra, 
in  I'lhtcz,  Mem.  Ottat.,  ii.  2G0.  Ternaux  writes  Francisco  do  Pineda.  Nnttv. 
Annales  dca  Vvy.,  xciii.  25.     According  to  Echevero,  the  first  matrices  for 


480 


LITERATURE  OF  CENTRAL  AMERICA. 


type  Tnade  in  America  must  be  credited  to  the  printer  Arevalo  of  Guatemala, 
in  1742. 

'^Of  the  first  Guatemalan  work  there  in  a  copy  in  my  library.  Tcnianx 
liaa  an  epic,  Ln  Thoninwutu  by  Diego  Saenz,  jjrinted  the  same  year.  L'l,i  .sun, 
I'elaez  mentions  some  later  books,  and  one  for  ItiOU,  which  seems  to  be  L(ih()!i. 

"  Arevalo  was  evidently  a  relative  of  the  contemporary  Mexican  jnurnal- 
ist,  who  in  1731  alludes  to  this  journal.  Aixnilo,  Coii('paiirn),  preface,  '-.'.  Tlie 
lir.-;t  suspension  occurred  in  1731.  Valdes  dates  its  existence  about  1710. 
Vazctaadc  Mcx.  (1784),  i.  3;  Id.,  x.  207;  Mex.  Uiario,  vi.  20l>,  etc. 

•-Marure  gives  a  list  of  journals  published  between  1821  and  1812  in  live 
of  the  ( 'enti"il  American  states.  Efemcriifvn,  77-9.  His  number  inr  (liiate- 
mala  is  57.  Reicliardt  states  tliat  Nicaragua  had  in  ISjVi  only  one  pros  ami 
one  journal,  yir.,  222.  In  1872  the  I'onriiir  i/e  Aininii/iiii  of  Dec.  hih, 
enumerates  four,  while  Guatemala  possesses  ten  and  Salvador  lifteiii.  Of 
the  four,  two  are  supported  by  the  government,  and  the  otlier  t\M)  bartly 
manage  to  exist.  />(t  Univn'siihid  Xtirinnd,  begun  in  187")  at  San  Salvador, 
is  one  of  the  briglitest  of  the  few  literary  and  scientific  journals  of  Central 
America.  During  the  California  gold  excitement,  and  for  some  time  at'tcr, 
polyglot  journals  appeared  in  Nicaragua  and  I'anania,  with  the  aid  of  Kng. 
lish  editors,  or  even  French,  and  at  I'anama  this  feature  lias  proved  piinia- 
nent.     Instance  the  Panama  Echo  of  1850,  and  the  surviving  Star  and  Jlimkl. 

''The  final  abolishment  of  censorship  in  the  northern  states  took  place 
in  1871.  Ihint.  /I'fcoj).  Leijes,  i.  4;  iv.  240-7.  Yet  in  the  following  year  an 
outcry  was  raised  against  Costa  Rica  for  prohibiting,  under  imjiri.-^onnieiit 
and  other  pi'ualty,  any  strictures  on  the  authorities.  A'/c.  Sininmul,  Oct.  HI, 
1872;  Purvcnir  Ni<\,  Nov.  10,  1872.  See  also  lincha,  Codlijo  Xic,  i.  ITii-ti; 
(Havrta  Gnat.,  June  18,  1849;  El  Sh/tn,  May  13,  1852;  Gac.  Ojic  Howl..  .May 
30,  1852,  Jan.  20,  1853;  Nic,  Dtrrel.  y  Anirrd..  1800,  140-2;  1872,  .S4  10; 
iV(>.  Informe  Min.  Gnh.,  v.  2-3;  vi.  IC.  Bonds  wero  generally  dLrti.imleil 
from  editors.  Notwithstanding  the  decline  of  ecclesiastical  iniliicnce  en- 
actments have  appeared  against  impious  as  well  as  pernicious  book.s.  Omit, 
Hearp.  Ltya,  iii.  280-7;  Cent.  Am.  J'ainp/dcts,  v.  pt.  vi. 

"  The  original  manuscript  of  Vazquez,  a  closely  written  volume  of  oyer 
200  folios,  in  double  columns,  dated  1724,  is  in  my  library.  It  was  never 
printed.  Siria's  work  was  issued  at  Guatemala  in  1710  in  4"  form  of  liliO 
pages.  To  these  may  be  added  the  Vidade  la  Vin/cn  and  other  rclij.'iiiu.s 
treatises  by  tlie  Jesuit  Juan  Antonio  de  Oviedo,  a  native  of  Bogota,  ('(huatod 
in  Guatemala  but  chielly  connected  with  Mexico.  He  died  m  1757.  Tlie 
Dominican  Father  Leal  who  wrote  the  Ecclctlr.  Monumenlit,  containing  the 
lives  of  the  bishops  of  Guatemala,  was  a  Peruvian;  and  the  Jesuit  Jusu 
Ignacio  Vallejo,  author  of   V^ida  de  S,  Jose',  camo  from  Guadalajara. 

1*  Friar  Pedro  Sapien,  Pedro  Jose  Arrece,  a  presbyter.  Friar  Pedro  ]Mari- 
ano  Iturbide,  and  Friar  Juan  Lerrasa,  all  of  Guatemala  city,  wrote  on 
philosophic  subjects;  and  Friar  Miguel  Frauseseh,  Friar  Jose  Antonio  tloi- 
coeehea  and  Friar  Matias  de  Cordova  on  educational  topics. 

1' The  work  never  saw  the  press,  but  the  contents  were  plagiarized  by 
Doctor  Pablo  Fcliz  Cabrera  and  published  in  condensed  form,  with  certain 
new  interiirctations,  under  the  title  of  Tiatrn  Crillfo,  in  connection  with 
Rio'fi  Dim- ri]  if  ion  of  an  Ancient  Cif;/,  London,  1822.  Both  translateil  into 
(ierman,  Berlin,  18.^2.  Besides  these  I  have  in  my  library  one  of  the  two 
or  at  the  most  three  copies  extant  of  Ordofiez'  work.  Alorcovcr,  a  gre.it 
portion  of  the  bulky  tome  before  mo  is  in  the  original,  marked  by  frci^ucut 
corrections. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

LITERATURE  OF  COLONIAL  MEXICO. 
Noacire  autem,  quid  antea,  qiiam  natua  sis,  acciderit,  id  est  semper  esse 

IHRTUUI. 

— Cicero. 


no  of  over 
as   never 

nil  of  :m 

nliffimi.s 
(■(hiratfd 
."i7.  Tliu 
niiig  tliu 

suit  JllSli 


^Ikxioo  was  the  first  city  on  the  American  conti- 
nent to  own  a  printing-press  and  to  pubHsli  a  book,  a 
olaiiu  that  adds  not  a  little  to  the  prestige  of  tln^  Aztec 
(•;il)ital.  The  press  came  out  with  Viccn)y  Meudoza, 
who  arrived  in  October  1535,  and  api)ears  to  liave 
l)reii  ill  cliarge  of  Juan  Pablos  from  Lombardy,  acting 
for  Juan  Cromberger,  the  owner  of  a  printing-house 
at  Seville.  Cromberger  died  in  1540,  and  although 
i)t'nuission  was  Qjranted  for  the  widow  and  children  to 
cDUtinue  his  business,  Pablo  must  have  bouglit  their 
interest,  for  after  1544  he  obtained  royal  permission 
to  carry  on  printing  exclusively  for  a  term  of  years.' 

The  first  book  issued  was  the  Escala  Kspirifiidl 
jKU'd  llff/<ir  al  (jielo,  Tmducidode  Latin  en  (kisidlmio  pnr 
rl  Venerable  Padre  Fr.  Ivan  de  la  Madalena,  Rel'ifjio^o 
Ddiiiiiitco,  in  1536.  The  work  had  been  originally 
written  in  Greek  by  San  Juan  Climacus,  the  hermit. 
Madalena  was  the  cloister  name  for  Estrada,  the  son 
of  ( jTovernor  Estrada,  the  successor  of  Cortes,  a  feature 
which  lends  additional  interest  to  the  work.^ 

The  Escala  no  longer  exists,  and  the  history  of  its 
iiinuodiate  successors  on  the  press  is  involved  in  doubt. 
Only  two  books  of  the  fourth  decade  are  said  to  sur- 
vive— the  Iheve  y  Mas  Compendiosa  Doctr'nia  Christiana 
rn  T/'nfpm.  Mexlcana  y  Casfellaiia.  At  the  end,  "By 
order  of  Bishop  Zumilrraga,  by  Cromberger,  I53i)j" 

Essays  and  Miscellany     3i  ,4hu 


482 


LITERATURE   OF  COLONIAL  MEXICO. 


12  leaves  in  4to.  The  other  is  a  Manual  de  Adidtos, 
by  Loijjrono,  printed  by  Croniberger,  December  13, 
1540,  which  recejitly  found  its  way  to  London.'  Half 
a  pcore  of  other  books  printed  before  1550  are  now 
known  to  bibliographers,  one  of  them  in  my  libra ly, 
and  about  six  dozen  more  exist  with  dates  of  the 
sixteenth  century. 

Of  these  Icazbalceta  gives  a  catalogue  of  44,  wliloh 
are  nearly  all  in  Mexico,  several  in  his  own  possession. 
Harrisse  presents  a  fuller  list,  and  less  complete  oiks 
liave  been  printed  in  several  works.  Those  issued 
before  1550  are,  besides  the  three  enumerated  above, 
Relacion  del  ciq)antahJe  terremoto . .  .cl  Guatimaht,  1.^)41, 
Cromberger ;  Doctriim  breve  of  Bishop  Zunuinaoa, 
1543 ;  Tripartito  del. .  .Tua,i  G  .son,  1544,  Cromberger; 
Comj)endio  hreue  que  tracta..  de  hacer  las  jmrn's^loiies, 
1544,  Cromberger;  another  fuller  edition  of  same 
year;  Doctrina expiana . .  .por  Pedro  de  Cordoua,  lo44, 
Cromberger;  Doctrina  Christiana,  1546,  Croujberger 
is  not  mentioned ;  Canciouero  Spirifjial  of  Las  Casas, 
1546,  Juan  Pablos  here  affixes  his  fir.st  imprint;  Jinjla 
Christiana  hreue,  1547 ;  aDoctrina  of  1548,  Juan  PabLts; 
another  Doctriim,  of  doubtful  date  ;  Ordenac^as  y  copi- 
lacion  de  leyes:  hechas  por. .  .jhdonio  deMedoca,  1548, 
Juan  Pablos.* 

A  few  more  sixteenth  century  tomes  may  no  doubt 
be  brouglit  to  light,  particularly  in  the  Mexican  eon- 
vents.  Among  the  existintj  number,  twentv-se vcn 
are  minor  ecclesiastical  works,  such  as  manuals  ot 
church  ceremonies,  catechisms,  and  doctrinas,  rei)rinted 
for  the  most  part  from  Spanish  editions,  and  of  no 
value  save  as  rare  samples  of  New  World  typogrniihv. 
Of  the  remainder,  thirty-seven  are  works  similar  to 
the  above,  but  partially  translated  into  various  native 
dialects,  chiefl}^  the  Aztec,  together  with  a  few  vocab- 
ularies and  brief  grammatical  rules. 

Ten  others  are  ecclesiastical  works  of  a  somewhat 
higher  class,  notably  regulations  of  the  religious 
orders.     There   are  two  medical  treatises,  and  two 


FIRST  AMERICAN  PRKSS. 


483 


classical  commentaries.  Two  present  secular  laws 
and  the  ordciunizas  of  the  Viceroy  Mendoza,  one  an 
aciount  of  a  terrible  earthquake  in  Guatemala,  and 
another  an  account  of  the  funeral  ceremonies  of 
I'liilip  II.  These  first  fruits  of  tlie  American  press 
were  many  of  them  issued  in  several  editions. 

Anionjx  the  authors  figure  such  notable  men  as 
Zunuirrai»;a,  the  iconoclast,  first  bishop  of  Mexico; 
Fatlier  (xante,  the  first  teacher  in  New  Spain ;  Father 
A'erarruz,  the  zealous  missionary  ;  Molina,  who  formed 
tlie  first  Aztec  vocabularly,  even  now  a  standard  work. 
Latin  is  the  most  frequent  medium  after  Spanish, 
tlicn  come  Aztec,  Tarascan,  Otomi,  Miztcc,  and 
Zapotcc.  The  type  is  Gothic,  Italic,  and  Roman, 
witli  frequent  abbreviations  and  rare  woodcuts  of  a 
rude  character,  re-introduced  into  ditl'erent  works. 
Thti  size  varies  from  folio  to  octavo,  the  small  quarto 
]»redominatin<^.  The  binding  is  usually  the  plain 
vellum  wrapper. 

l^rinting  was  hampered  by  too  many  restrictions  to 
attain  any  flourishing  condition,  and  only  the  leading 
towns  like  Puebla,  Guadalajara,  and  Vera  Cruz  could 
exhibit  presses.  At  Mexico  it  appears  there  were 
six  in  1761 ;  but  at  the  beginning  of  this  century  only 
throe  remained.'^  These  printers  had  to  obtain  licenses, 
not  being  allowed  to  print  without  official  sanction. 

The  introduction  of  books  was  rigorously  supervised, 
so  as  to  exclude  anything  that  savored  of  heresy,  or 
too  great  liberty  of  thought  and  speculation;  and 
even  books  authorized  in  Spain  were  often  excluded 
as  dangerous  to  the  loyal  or  moral  tendency  of  the 
more  unsophisticated  children  beyond  the  sea.*  While 
the  inquisition  possessed  the  main  censorship,  inter- 
fVience  came  also  from  other  quarters  to  protect  the 
pul)lic.  Notwithstaniling  this  strictness,  many  books 
were  smuggled  in  and  read  even  by  prelates,  as 
ap})oars  from  charges  made.  Latterly  the  govern- 
ment became  more  induloent. 


m*\ 


UUiil 


484 


LITERATURE   OF  COLONIAL  MEXICO. 


Periodicals  were  ever  strictly  watched,  even  so  far 
as  to  fruqucntly  exclude  fromtheir  columns  narratives 
of  ordinary  events,  and  to  render  them  of  compara- 
tively small  value  to  the  historian.  A  sort  of  special 
journal  was  issued  in  early  times  on  the  arrival  of  tlic 
Heets,  with  accounts  of  im[)ortant  occurrences,  of 
appointments,  and  the  like,  but  the  first  issue  of  a 
ro;^ular  periodical  was  begun  at  Mexico  in  1693,  witli 
LJio  Mcrciirio  Volante  of  Sii^iienza,  which  reached  four 
volumes.  In  1722  Juan  Ignacio  Maria  de  Caste )r(iia 
y  Ursua,  precentor  at  Mexico,  and  later  bishop  of 
Yucatan,  presented  in  the  Gacda  a  publication  nuMv 
in  accordance  with  our  idea  of  a  journal.  The  issue 
stopped  for  some  reason  the  san*"  year,  but  was  re- 
sumed in  1728  by  Arevalo.'  It  continued  monthly 
until  1739,  reporting  events  in  different  provinces  and 
towns  and  in  Europe,  and  giving  notices  of  fleets, 
books,  and  curious  things.  Then  came  a  long  in- 
tcrval  until  1784,  when  the  Gaccta  de  Mexico  rea})pear( d 
permanently  in  about  the  same  form,  in  semi-niouthlv 
numbers,  occasionally  weekly,  and  with  supplements 
and  illustrations.  In  1805  it  expanded  to  senii- 
wt^ekly  numbers.  * 

Meanwhile  the  Mercurio  had  been  twice  revived,  in 
1772  by  Bartolache  who  issued  a  few  numbers  on 
scientific  subjects.  This  higher  sphere  of  periodicals 
received  its  first  reliable  support  from  the  learned 
Alzate  in  his  Gacefas  de  Literatura,  devoted  to  arts, 
science,  and  critical  reviews.  In  1805,  about  ten 
years  after  Alzate's  paper  stopped,  a  similiar  daily 
publication,  the  Diario  de  Mexico,  made  its  appearance, 
with  preference  for  light  literature,  yet  with  a  small 
proportion  of  political  matter.  It  continued  for  sev- 
eral years,  and  consisted  generally  of  two  small  quarto 
sheets.  The  projector  was  the  alcalde  de  corte,  Villa 
Urrutia.  Reports  of  transactions  by  societies  became 
not  infrequent  even  before  the  independence. 

The  revolution  crave  rise  to  a  number  of  small 
sheets,  and  the  greater  liberty  accorded  to  the  press 


PEmopirAT.s. 


4.sr) 


iiftcr  IRIO  gave  iinpulso  to  all  classes  of  literature, 
r.iiodicals  were  issueii  also  at  a  few  other  iilacts,  as 
(luatcinala  and  Vera  (.-ruz,  but  these  could  not  iii- 
t'iiiijj,o  on  the  exclusive  riijfhts  <»ranted  to  the  otticiul 
|i,i|Hr  at  Mexico  to  publish  certain  foreign  and  local 
iut'orniation."* 

With  the  limited  range  of  education  and  the  re- 
strictions on  literature  it  can  r<;adily  Ixj  supposed  that 
colliH'tions  of  books  were  not  numerous,  beyond  the 
convents,  where  more  or  less  extensive  libraries  very 
naturally  collected,  almost  wholly  of  a  theological 
nature.  To  these,  different  chrotiides  of  the  orders 
ivt<r  as  the  source  for  their  data.  The  chief  collec- 
tions Wire  at  the  head  convent  of  tlie  provincia,  to 
which  Mowed  all  reports,  and  wliere  the  chief  school 
of  the  order  was  situated. 

Tlie  few  colleges  accunmlated  sets,  as  in  San  Juan 
tie  Letran,  the  Jesuit  institute,  and  the  university. 
The  clmrches  had  also  respectable  libraries  formed  by 
ilonations  from  chapters  and  prelates,  and  so  had  tlie 
puhlic  offices,  notably  the  audience  court  from  which 
the  royal  chronicler  drew  his  data.' 


1* 


From  what  has  been  said  about  the  strict  exclusion 
of  foreign  books  and  the  zealous  efforts  of  churchmen 
to  hanisli  also  light  Spanish  literature,  it  may  be  as- 
sumed that  the  collections  were  even  more  national  in 
tlieir  character  than  would  be  expected  in  a  colony ; 
tliat  is,  composed  of  works  written  within  the  country, 
and  vastly  preponderating  in  theologic  lore.  True, 
the  standard  authors  of  S[>ain,  scholastics,  legal  lights, 
olironiclers,  poets,  dramatists,  formed  the  gems,  the 
nucleus,  of  the  sets;  but  we  can  readily  imagine  the 
proportion  of  local  w^riters  and  of  subjects  for  the  rest, 
wlieii  it  is  shown  that  merely  the  Franciscan  authors 
of  New  Spain,  who  until  1800  inflicted  their  verbose 
and  inonot(»nous  narratives  and  dissertations  on  asul)- 
uiis^iive    people,  numbered  over  four  hundreil,"   uud 


miy^ 


4^0 


MTKRATIT.E  OF  f'OLOMAL  MEXICO. 


when  it  is  ronsiilorcd  tliat  tlio  relii^fious  tcn(li(>rs 
f^uidod  piihlic  taste,  and  strove  to  obtain  a  circulutiun 
tor  thtiir  own  productions. 

This  feature  is  of  certain  significance,  sinec  it 
stamped  to  a  great  extent  the  literary  taste  in  all  di- 
rections. Tlie  friars  were  not  what  were  called  wlII- 
read  men.  Many  misslonariei^  in  tiie  out-lying  prov- 
inces, who  have  contributed  so  much  to  history,  pos- 
sessed a  njcrely  rudimentary  education  ;  others  had 
taken  degress  at  their  colleges  without  dii>[)ing  into 
other  lore  than  that  furnished  by  the  fathers  of  tin 
church.  Medina  points  out  that  his  order  heeded 
well  the  exhortation  of  St  Francis  to  his  followers — 
not  to  profess  sciences  and  books,  but  to  study  humil- 
ity." Such  writers  as  Torqueniada,  whoso  kpowlcdur 
of  Greek  and  Latin  classics  created  some  atteiitlcu 
for  him,  were  therefore  rare  ;  yet  even  this  class  had 
been  so  moulded  in  the  religious  element  of  tluir 
studies,  and  by  the  ascetic  influence  around  them,  as 
to  leave  the  impress  thereof  on  every  page. 

Since  every  work  had  to  pass  through  the  hands  nf 
censors,  notaldy  the  rigid  in([uisition,  it  became  al- 
most necessary  to  give  a  pious  tinge  to  the  pages  in 
order  to  secure  permission  to  publish,  and  ahovf  all 
to  suppress  whatever  savored  of  acquaintance  v.itli 
works  not  favored  by  the  church.  Every  book,  even 
the  petty  pamphlet,  is  prefaced  with  a  host  of  certifi- 
cates to  vouch  for  its  orthodox  and  local  sentiments, 
and  the  absence  of  anvthing  that  mi}>ht  disturb  tlu' 
desired  frame  of  the  public  mind. 

Add  to  this  the  cortrol  of  schools  and  colleges  by 
ecclesiastic  teachers,  i  )und  by  training  and  duty  t" 
leaven  the  youthful  i  id  with  religious  dogmas  and 
forms,  discouraging  \  ysics  and  cognate  suhjicts, 
and  strictly  excluding  s  Gculative  thought  of  a  libcrcd 
character  ;  even  the  stu  /  of  medicine  would  probably 
have  been  frowned  dow  but  for  the  exigent  demand 
of  health.  Thus  bigotry  stifled  intellectual  life.  A 
lamentable  superstition  is  apparent  in  the  works  ev*  ;i 


CENSOUSIIIP. 


487 


of  later  writers,  who,  like  Vcytia,  had  travelled  and 
(li|)|)ed  widely  into  foreij^ii  literature.  Critical  and 
satiric  writint^s  were  hanished,  the  eloijuence  of  the 
liar  and  pulpit  depressed,  and  didaetie  works  cireuni- 
scrilied,  a  certain  outlet  bein;.;  permitted  only  in 
pi  (('try  and  the  drama,  which  from  the  pressure  of 
pciit-up  feeling  in  this  direction  became  tinged  with 
uiidesirablo  elements  and  colors. 


All  tliis  was  but  a  reflection  of  the  influence  at  work 
ill  Spain,  intensified  here  where  the  peo[)le  for  various 
reasons  must  be  held  in  stricter  pu})ilage.  Born  amid 
the  strife  of  battle,  literature  had  sprung  forth  endowed 
with  tlie  strength  of  its  mountain  home,  and  fired 
witii  the  enthusiasm  of  heroic  spirits.  Similar  influ- 
ences fostered  it  also  on  the  Antlhuac  plateau,  wliere 
the  chivalry  romances,  with  Amadis  in  the  lead,  urged 
the  conquering  hordes  to  fresh  deeds  and  wider  roam- 
ing. Yet  this  early  period  was  one  of  transition  from 
a  decline  to  a  revival  of  letters,  whereof  even  Bcrnal 
l)i:i/i,  with  all  his  crudities,  attbrds  an  indication.  Tlie 
now  impulse  came  from  Italy,  to  which  the  gilded 
youth  of  Spahi  Imd  been  led  under  the  victorious  ban- 
lurs  of  the  Great  Caotain,  only  to  fall  cajitive  in  the 
musjios  of  an  intellectual  influence  that  was  slowly  to 
change  the  national  form;  a  form  hitherto  colored 
only  by  Moorish  sources,  from  which  the  ballads  in 
particular  had  borrowed  so  nmch  material.  Although 
tlie  new  school  met  with  strong  opposition  in  certain 
(juarters,  and  failed  to  find  root  for  all  its  branches, 
the  efl'ect  was  wide-spread  and  vivifying,  even  to  the 
conservative  faction.  This  is  instanced  by  the  splen- 
dor of  the  Vega-Calderon  [leriod,  and  even  in  such  }>rose 
writers  as  Solis,  wherein,  however,  affectation  and 
tloridity  reach  a  degree  tiiat  is  unendurable  to  the 
Anglo-Saxon  ear,  though  not  eijual  to  the  still  wilder 
revelling  of  the  Concettisti.  Among  these  our  Sala- 
zar  y  Olarte  may  well  figure  as  a  rejiresentative,  and 
their  .spirit  has  found  only  too  wide  a  response  in 


I 


I. 


l\ 


mhi 


i  n 


ll 


488 


LITEIIATUIIE  OF  COLONIAL  MEXICO. 


American  literature,  with  its  extravagant  and  unsus- 
taincd  soarings  in  fancy  and  diction. 

What  was  excusable  in  poetry  became  a  glaring  de- 
fect in  prose.  The  latter  indeed  received  compara- 
tively little  study  in  historic  and  didactic  brandies, 
and  fell  far  behind  poetry  in  appropriate  develo[)ment. 
Not  so,  however,  romance,  whicli  continued  to  ilourisli, 
intimately  connected  as  it  was  with  the  prevalent  bal- 
lad spirit  so  rooted  on  the  peninsula.  But  it  took  a 
departure  from  chivalry  romance  in  the  j)/raresco,  ro^ju- 
ish  novels,  which  are  distinctively  Spanish,  yet  owe 
their  rise  greatly  to  Italian  fiction.  A  high  standard 
was  reached  in  those  wherein  Cervantes  has  challen'j,ed 
universal  admiration. 

The  establishment  ■  f  the  Bourbon  dynasty  pre[)arr(l 
the  way  for  another  change  wdiere  Italian  influencu 
was  displaced  by  French.  This  met  with  similar  op- 
position from  the  national  party  and  affected  literature 
in  a  less  radical  manner  than  the  former,  yet  it  iiifusttl 
everywhere  a  more  classic  and  sedate  tone,  even  wluii 
direct  application  failed.  It  seems,  however,  asiftlie 
bridle  proved  also  a  check  on  genius,  for  the  eighti'oiiili 
century  produced  no  poet  at  all  comi)arable  to  those 
of  the  preceding  period ;  but  prose  was  lifted  to  a 
higher  level,  and  early  national  literature  came  into 
favor  transformed  to  some  extent  after  the  new  models. 
The  roj'al  academy,  founded  in  1714,  sougthtoconHnn 
the  taste  by  praiseworthy  efforts  in  different  dire(>tioiis. 
notably  in  the  dictionf^ry,  its  crowning  task.  (Jallic 
influence  is  above  all  to  be  accredited  with  assist  iiiu 
to  break  down  the  barriers  so  lonix  maintained  bv  hiu- 
otry ;  and  herein  the  Benedictine  Feijoo  proved  an 
admirable  instrument  by  his  long  and  persevering  on- 
slaught against  the  prevailing  dialects  and  scholasti- 
cism, and  by  liis  exposition  of  scientific  studies. 

That  this  sketch  of  peninsula  literature  ap]>lies  to 
New  Spain  is  evident  from  the  fact  that  foreign  books 
were  excluded,  while  teachers  atid  guides  had  neailx 
all  been  trained  in  Spain.     The  difference  lay  in  the 


OLTi  AND  NEW  SPAIN. 


4S9 


slowor  introduction  of  changes,  in  their  greater  cur- 
tailment, and  in  the  modifications  imparted  by  a  var- 
iuty  of  races.  The  Creole  was  precocious  and  impul- 
sive, but  unsustaincd,  non-persevering,  and  his  indo- 
kiHH'  of  spirit,  added  to  the  non-reflective  bent  of  the 
Castilian,  imparted  a  shallowness  to  hiseftbrts.  Nev- 
ertheless, the  catalogue  of  prominent  writers  contains 
a  large  proportion  of  local  names,  many  of  which  cast 
a  lustre  that  has  obtained  for  them  a  trans-oceanic 
fame. 

Among  the  Indians  also  a  long  array  of  writers 
stands  forth  to  redeem  the  race  from  tlu- oblo({uy  with 
wliidi  caste,distinclion,and  short-sighted  policy  have 
assisted  to  cover  thcni ;  and  while  their  mind  is  ahnost 
wholly  imitative,  lacking  in  breadth  and  subtlety, 
and  strikingly  devoid  of  imagination  and  invention, 
vit  tlii'ir  ai)titude  for  masterinsjj  mechanical  details 
tends  to  hide  many  imperfi'ctions.  It  would  seem  as 
if  tlie  bloody  rites,  monarchial  (lesp(>tism,  and  popular 
Serfdom  had  from  remotest  times  left  an  hnpressiou 
on  their  literary  eflbrts. 

In  aboriginal  times  they  were  naturally  lianipered 
bv  the  imperfect  svstem  of  writing,  which  consisted 
chiefly  of  figurative  and  synd)olic  characters,  with  a 
luei'e  admixture  of  ])honecic  elements.  It  \\as  full\- 
understood  alone  by  the  priesihood  V  ho  ke[)t  the 
reeoi'ds,  and  by  the  select  educated  few,  while  another 
less  advanei'd  class  com})re' ended  the  more  connnon 
si.!,!is,  with  their  narrow  range  of  exoteric  subjects, 
and  stood  in  this  res[>ect  above  the  mass  of  the 
]iii'ple.  The  Nahuas,  and  perlia]>s  even  more  so  the 
Mayas,  stood  cons}>icuously  forward  as  the  most  ad- 
vanced in  culture  on  the  American  continent;  and 
iiolliing  so  strikingly  illustrates  this  supei'lority  as 
tlieir  ])icture-writing.  llising  above  the  us<>  of  repre- 
sentative and  synd)olic  pictures  as  adequatt)  oidy  for 
ti  iiiporary  purposes,  they  conceived  the  idea  of  ])er- 
nianent  records,  and  conse(|[Uently  develojjcd  and  p(  r- 


mma 


400 


LITERATURE  OF  COLONIAL  MEXICO. 


E'- '  i:.i„ 


fectcd  their  hieroglyphic  system  until  they  had  added 
a  [)li()iietic  element.  The  realization  of  the  want  was 
the  true  beginning,  was  almost  the  accomplished  fart; 
all  the  rest  followed  as  naturally  as  the  plant  germi- 
nates from  the  seed.  With  them  the  painted  like- 
ness of  glistening  drops  no  longer  signified,  as  in  inure 
primitive  stages,  simply  the  pictured  substance  atl,  as 
it  would  have  signified,  with  equal  clearness,  irafrr, 
eau,  or  arpia  to  the  Englishman,  Frenchman,  or  S[)aii- 
iard;  but  it  conveyed  to  the  reader's  mind  tlic  sound 
or  syllable  utl^  or  even  a,  in  many  words  which  retain 
in  their  meanhig  and  derivation  no  reference  wliat- 
ever  to  the  fiuid  depicted  by  the  character.  Tlic 
transition  to  the  phonetic  element  is  strikingly  illus- 
trated in  the  illustrated  rebuses — children's  hierogly- 
phics— as  when  charity  is  written  by  drawing  in  suc- 
cession a  chair,  an  eye,  and  a  chest  of  tea,  chair-t'\  o- 
tea.  The  sounds  of  the  word  have  their  meaning. 
To  the  Frenchman  the  same  pictures,  chaisc-ocil- 
the  would  have  no  significance.  One  stage  of  do- 
velo[)ment  only,  that  from  representative  syllal)ic 
character  to  an  arbitrary  literal  alphabet,  remained,  to 
which  the  native  American  Jittemteur  might  aspirr. 
]^ut  we  must  not  picture  too  broad  the  gulf  that  sep- 
arates Aztec  literature  and  its  aboriLjinal  amateurs 
from  the  writer  and  printer  of  tlie  present  day.  The 
future  scribe,  seated  on  the  pedestal  of  the  C(niturios, 
may  consider  the  dift'erence  sli«j:ht,  and  condemn  our 
signs  as  crude. 

Every  phase  of  human  knowledge  is  a  deveh)pin(  nt 
from  a  germ,  a  result,  grand  or  otherwise,  i)uilt  hy 
gradual  accumulation  upon  small  begimiings.  The 
wheel  of  progress,  now  whirling  with  such  lightnin.; 
speed  througli  the  nations,  accomplished  but  slowly 
and  with  fre(|uent  rests  its  primary  revolutions.  And 
yet  the  first  triumphs  of  our  race  were  the  most  ulo- 
rious  and  the  most  hnportant.  From  these  li.ivc 
sprung  all  subsequent  conquests  of  mind  over  matwr. 
The  naked,  primitive  man,  who,  threatened  by  su[irriur 


ABOrJGIXAL  ATTEMPTS. 


491 


animals,  first  defended  l\is  life,  and  opposed  brute 
fiiicc  by  intelligent  cunning  In  the  use  of  a  projectile, 
iMcanie  thereby  a  just  claimant  to  some  part  of  the 
lidiior  due  the  inventor  of  the  rifled  cannon.  The 
aboriginal  who  first  bethought  hun  to  call  into  requi- 
istion  a  floating  log  for  crossing  the  river,  was  the  true 
originator  of  the  ocean  steamer.  In  painting  and 
sculpture,  the  actual  old  masters  were  those  whose 
latent  power  revealed  itself  by  caricaturing  in  lines 
of  coal  or  berry-juice,  or  rudely  modelling  in  river- 
l)ank  nmd  the  forms  of  familiar  objects.  In  literature, 
as  in  all  art  and  science,  "c'est  le  premier  pas  qui 
( oiite."  The  first  wild  bohemian  who,  by  a  mark  on 
a  forest  tree  indicated  to  him  who  came  after  the 
route  taken,  was  the  founder  of  written  lanixuaj^e. 
Ho  who  signed  the  tree  record  with  his  name,  *Tlic 
Paiitlier,'  by  an  outline  carving  of  the  beast  whose 
appellation  and  qualities  he  had  assumed,  achieved  a 
greater  triumph  than  did  in  later  times  the  inventor 
of  movable  types ;  and  the  first  faint  conception  of  a 
plionetic  hi  a<1dition  to  a  purely  representative  use  of 
tlie  native  pictures  was  one  more  pregnant  with  re- 
sults in  the  interests  of  progress  than  was  that  of  the 
printing-press. 

Every  wild  tribe  from  Alaska  to  Pananid,  before 
its  obliteration,  had  made  more  or  less  progress  in 
representative  picture-writing.  Their  primitivt;  pages, 
carved  or  painted  on  wood  or  stone,  are  o}H'n  to  in- 
s]iccti()n  in  every  one  of  the  Pacific  states.  Some  of 
the  j)ages  doubtless  contain  also  symbolic  writing ; 
suicly  manj^of  the  figures  represent  no  natural  object 
ill  tlie  heavens  above  or  the  earth  beneath.  The  sav- 
a'4'c  who,  to  save  labor,  gradually  oniits  features, 
limbs,  and  body  from  the  picture  by  which  he  hidi- 
( atos  'a  man,'  until  nothing  is  left  but  a  line  arbi- 
tiarily  crooked,  certainly  makes  no  small  advance  in 
tlic  direction  of  shorthand.  His  idea  is  a  grand  one; 
111  it  that  it  enlarges  greatly  at  first  the  scope  of  his 
lecordiug  abilities,  but  by  reason  of  the  possible  re- 


,., 


Mi 


_ 


492 


LITERATURE  OF  COLOXIAL  MEXICO. 


n: ,; ! 


*'    i 


suits  to  which  it  may  lead.  Symbolic  writing,  in  its 
abandonment  of  clues  for  general  interpretation,  ofti  u 
leaves  no  positive  proof  of  being  a  class  of  ciplier;  not 
a  few  of  the  curious  characters  that  so  sorely  puzzle 
antiquarian  investigators  may  be  fairly  attributed  to 
the  propensity  possessed  by  savages,  in  conmion  with 
children,  to  seek  anmsement  in  the  tracing  of  meaii- 


ino-lcss  lines. 


These  picture-pages  of  American  savagism,  proving 
as  they  do  that  their  authors  were  on  the  roati  to  let- 
ters, arc,  nevertheless,  utterly  devoid  of  meaning  to 
us.  Enthusiastic  attempts  to  explain  their  significance 
have  signally  failed,  and  theories  reared  on  the  Digli- 
ton  rock  inscription  have  proved  inapplicable.  Thu 
ludicrous  failure  of  Domcnech's  Book  of  Savages  has 
dampened  the  ardorof  many.  Representative  antl  sym- 
bolic hieroglyphics,  unaided  by  the  phonetic  oralplia- 
betic  element,  may  rarely  be  handed  down  to  a  follow- 
ing generation.  Left  alone  the  native  germ  would 
have  developed,  but  it  was  not  so  decreed.  All  honor 
nevertheless  to  the  dusky  scribes  1  They  did  wliat 
thev  could  before  us  in  trvinj;  to  decipher  the  mystcrv. 
Thanks  to  the  efforts  of  our  ancestors  for  hundreils 
of  centuries  past,  rather  than  to  any  merit  of  our 
own,  we  are  enabled  to  work  systematically  for  tlic 
attainment  of  a  desired  end,  and  by  means  and  devicis 
which  shine  in  comparison  with  those  of  the  remote 
l>ast,  as  they  will  pale  before  those  of  the  less  reniotf 
future. 

The  Aztec  system  of  writing,  although  imperfoct. 
was  adequate  enough  to  their  by  no  means  small  nt 
sinq)le  necessities.  By  its  aid  they  could  intelligil'ly 
connnit  their  language  to  sheets  of  cloth  or  skin,  hut 
chiefly  to  long  stri|)s  of  the  native  inctl,  or  agave-])aiH'r, 
rolled  or  if  preferable  folded  ftm-like  into  a  form  con- 
venient for  use  Thus  they  recorded  the  laws  of  tin  ir 
complicated  code,  the  tribute-rolls  of  their  conqui  rod 
domains,  ritual  tables  of  feast-days,  and  sa(  iiti<"  -^ 
appointed  to  honor  the  divhiities  of  an  over-crow < ltd 


AZTEC  IlECORUS. 


493 


pantheon,  gcnealogic  lists  of  kings  and  noble  families, 
witli  the  chronology  of  their  succession,  and  the 
events  of  their  respective  reigns;  in  fact  their  history 
—for  they,  like  Europeans  of  the  sanit;  age,  deemed 
tl,e  deeds  only  of  kings  and  priests  worthy  of  the 
ivcorder's  notice. 

Over  this  magic  hieroglyphic  art  a  veil  of  mystery 
was  cast.  The  priesthood  controlled  it  as  they  did 
all  else  in  this  American  Middle  Age,  and  only  a 
cjioson  few  could  as})ire  to  fathom  its  secrets.  The 
million  could  only  stand  aloof  and  wonder  as  they 
listened  to  the  vague  rumors  afloat  respecting  the 
wonderful  powers  of  the  god-liko  literati  with  their 
(harmed  scrolls. 

The  last  native  triumph  in  letters  was  won.  Fate, 
(Mivious  of  their  indigenous  success,  refused  to  the 
Americans  a  few  centuries  more  in  order  to  enlarge 
and  perfect  what  they  had  so  nobly  accomplished. 
Their  literature  and  civilization,  their  priesthood  and 
religion,  withered  at  the  touch  of  foreign  interference, 
never  to  revive.  Not  only  was  the  further  unfolding 
ef  Xahua  letters  effectually  checked,  but  the  light 
which  the  Aztec  records  might  have  shed  on  the 
.Vinerican  past  was  in  a  great  measure  extinguished 
ill  the  flood  of  foreign  fanaticism.  Before  the  coming 
ef  the  Europeans  the  native  documentary  records, 
comparatively  few  in  number,  were  collected  in  the 
l'iinei])al  religious  centres,  and  locked  in  the  archives 
ef  the  capital  cities,  there  to  be  seized  and  destroyed 
hy  order  of  catholic  bishoj)s.  Not  alone  to  the  barba- 
rian invasions,  civil  broils,  or  Roman  catholic  zeal  is 
lino  the  hiffimy  of  book-burning,  an  infamy  as  nmch 
more  odious  than  human  slaughter  as  knowledge  is 
i>ettor  than  life.  The  calif  Omar  burns  the  writings 
ef  the  Greeks  lest  thev  should  not  aq-ree  with  his 
holy  book;  the  catholic  fathers  burn  the  writings  of 
the  heathen  lest  they  should  not  agree  with  their 
I'lybook;  and  later  and  stranger  infatuation  than 
all,  protestants  burn  the  books  of  the  catholics  be- 


I  I  I 


4M 


LITERATURE  OF  COLONIAL  MEXICO. 


cause  in  their  opinion  they  do  not  fairly  represent  the 
faith  wliicli  both  accept.  In  the  rei'^n  of  Edward  IV. 
the  reforming  visitors  of  the  un'.versity  of  Oxford 
I)urged  the  public  library  of  popery;  leaving  only  a 
manuscript  of  Valerius  Maxinms,  they  burned  tlio 
remaining  writings  in  the  market-place,  or  sold  tliciii 
to  low  artificers,  A  cartload  of  manuscripts,  includiiiLj; 
even  mathematical  fi<>-ures,  rubrics,  and  astronomical 
demonstrations,  was  thus  taken  from  the  library  of 
Merton  collejxe. 

The  Revercndissimo  Scnor  Don  Fray  Juan  Zuniih-- 
raga,  a  most  venerable  and  illustrious  Franciscan,  was 
a  man  of  great  learning,  as  learning  then  went.  A 
native  of  Durango,  a  city  of  northern  Spain,  his  early 
life  was  devoted  to  the  strict  observances  of  the  ruKs 
of  his  order,  which  led  to  his  appointment  as  guardian 
of  the  convent  of  Concepcion,  and  later  of  Abrigo,  r 
convent  near  Valladolid,  whither  Charles  V.  was  wont 
to  retire  during  holy-week ;  and  so  greatly  pleased 
was  the  monarch  with  the  priest's  devotion,  that  wlieu 
Cortes  captured  Montezuma,  Zunuirraga  was  made 
first  bishop  of  Mexico.  His  zeal  was  surpassed  only 
by  his  bigotry ;  and  for  this  the  natives  had  reason  to 
curse,  while  blessing  him,  because  he  discouraged  their 
indiscriminate  abuse. 

Zumdrraga  was  a  good  man,  a  pious  man,  an  honest 
man.  His  was  an  enlightened  conscience  in  so  far  as 
light  had  as  yet  reached  this  planet.  His  trouble 
was  excess  of  conscience.  His  piety  overwlielnied 
his  humanity.  He  would  do  men  good  if  he  had  to 
torture  or  slay  in  order  to  accomplish  it. 

Because,  forsooth,  the  Christian's  devil  lurked  be- 
tween those  barbaric  pages ;  because  characters  uncx- 
plainable  by  papal  Daniels  must  be  scrawls  of  Satan, 
traced  by  pitchy  fingers  to  the  eternal  confounding' 
of  these  poor  heathens;  because  of  a  learned  infatu- 
ation well  nigh  incomprehensible  to  us  of  the  pres  nt 
day,  there  must  be  sacrificed  and  lost  to  progres- 
sive man  treasures  inestimable,  pictures  of  primitive 


ABORIGINAL  HISTORY. 


405 


thought,  incipient  civilizations,  of  a  projj^ross  in  some 
i(s[K'cts  which  might  put  to  blush  that  of  these  icono- 
clastic teachers. 

]*]ven  were  those  heaps  of  horrible  scrawls  what 
you  regarded  them,  oh  I  holy  fanatics,  better  to 
lla^  e  kept  them  amongst  us,  better  to  have  kept  and 
wild  these  written  instructions  of  Lucifer,  and  to 
luivo  learned  therefrom,  to  our  further  safety,  how  by 
jiis  arts  he  deluded  these  poor  barbarians,  than  by 
tire  to  have  sent  his  missives  back  to  him  unopened, 
liut  now  both  Aztec  manuscripts  and  fanatic  fathers 
];avc  gone  their  way. 

Saved  from  the  fires  which  Zunuirraga's  bigotry 
kindled,  or  copied  by  ecclesiastical  jierinission  before 
serving  as  food  for  the  purifying  flames,  or  trans- 
scribed  from  memory  by  converts,  many  specimens  of 
}>icture-writing  were  sent  by  the  conquerors  to  S}>ain 
ill  tlie  sixteenth  century  as  curiosities  of  New  World 
art.  These  excited  momentary  attention  by  their 
mysterious  devices  ;  then  thev  were  scattered,  and  for 
two  centuries  forgotten.  When  attention  was  again 
(lirocted  to  these  relics  of  an  extinct  civilization,  and 
tlicir  importance  began  to  be  appreciated,  starch  was 
made  throughout  Europe,  and  such  scattered  reni- 
iiaiits  as  survived  their  long  neglect  were  gathirtd 
and  deposited  in  public  aud  private  libraries.  Eight 
<ir  ten  such  collections  were  formed,  and  most  of  their 
contents,  with  plates  and  ex{)lanations,  published 
hy  Lord  Kingsborougli  in  a  work  of  nine  mammoth 
folios,  which  cost  him  his  reason  and  his  fortune. 
His  reason  was  wasted  in  the  absurd  atteiniit  to  prove 
the  Jewish  origin  of  American  indigenous  races. 
If  bulk  or  bull-dog  determiiiation  can  prove  a  propo- 
sition, surely  this  half-d(>mented  English  lord  should 
ho  Itelieved,  and  all  mankind  forever  agree  with  him 
tliat  the  American  aboriginal  descended  from  the  ten 
lost  tribes  of  Israel,  which  wandered  over  to  these 
sh(tres,  either  by  sea  or  land,  and  here, abandoned  by 
their  god  in  their  propagations,  became  dusky  and 


11-) 


Ml 


i: 


i1: 


490 


T.ITEUATURE  OK  COLONIAL  MEXICO. 


degenerate,   so  that  later,  Christians  coming  hither 
might  easily  kill  them. 

The  remnants  of  Tezcuco's  ahoriginal  archives  were 
hequeathed  by  her  last  king  to  his  lineal  descendant, 
Ixtlilxochitl,  who  used  them  extensiveh',  albeit  imt 
always  judiciously,  in  his  voluminous  historical  writ- 
ings. From  this  scion  of  a  royal  race,  these  may  Ix' 
traced  more  or  loss  clearly  as  in  the  j)osse.ssion  suc- 
cessively of  Sigiienza,  Boturini,  Veytia,  Ortega,  Leon  y 
Gama,  Pichardo,  and  Sanchez,  and  finally  to  tlie 
National  Museum  of  the  University  of  Mexico,  tlnir 
[trescnt  and  proper  place  of  deposit. 

In  the  hands  of  some  of  these  owners  a  portion  of 
the  manuscripts  were  scattered;  others  by  personal 
research  augmented  their  collection,  as  Boturini,  who 
added  500  specimens.  Tlujse  were  confiscated  by  t]ie 
government,  but  surrendered  to  the  historian  Veytia 
for  consultation  in  the  pre[)aration  of  his  work  on 
aboriginal  history.  Gemclli  Careri  and  Clavigcro 
had  had  similar  access  for  public  benefit.  At  tlio 
death  of  Leon  y  Gama,  a  portion  of  his  inheritid 
hieroixlvphic  treasures  was  sold,  and  from  tliis  souivc 
Humboldt  obtained  some  specimens  for  tlie  Berlin 
collection. 

During  the  revolution  and  subsequent  civil  war, 
many  papers  were  transferred  to  Europe,  and  mostly 
secured  by  M.  Aubin.  Still,  a  rich  collection  re- 
mains in  the  Mexican  archives,  and  ardent  students 
of  the  Aztec  hieroglyphic  system  are  not  wantini;, 
from  whose  researches  the  future  has  much  to  leaiii 
respecting  the  American  past.  The  zeal  of  a  few  na- 
tive scholars,and  the  practical  use  made  of  the  nativ(> 
pictures  before  the  courts  during  the  vears  followin'^' 
the  conquest,  fortunately  prevented  a  loss  of  the  key 
to  their  interpretation. 

Respecting  the  value  of  the   native  records   <le 
stroyed    there   can   be   only   conjecture.     That  tin' 
Aztecs  felt  the  need  of  recording  their  past,  and  pi  'rf- 
sessed    a    hieroglyphic  system  fully  adequate  to  tiiO 


NAllUA   WRITIX(;S. 


407 


purpose,  and  yet  did  not  use  it,  is  ha  xlly  to  be  sup- 
poMxi.  There  can  bo  no  manner  of  doubt  that  they 
wrote  all  they  knew  concerning  their  history ;  tlie 
only  question  is  how  much  they  knew.  The  annals 
were  ccrtaiidy  detailed  and  tolerably  accurate  for  the 
two  centuries  of  Aztec  domination  ;  but  prior  to  that 
nation's  rise,  the  point  where  history  fades  into  tradi- 
tion, in  American  as  in  Old  World  annals,  cannot  be 
definitely  fixed.  Traditionally,  the  branches  of  the 
Xaliua  i)coples  preceding  that  known  as  the  Aztec 
were  no  less  skilled  in  the  art  of  picture-records  ;  l)ut 
tiiulition  also  tells  us  that  the  scrolls  with  pre-Aztec 
annals  were  destroyed  by  one  of  the  Mexican  mon- 
arclis,  ambitious  to  blot  from  the  knowledge  of  hu- 
man kind  all  details  of  greatness  preceding  and 
exceudhig  that  of  his  own  achievements. 

The  Nahuas  were  proficient  also  in  other  phases  of 
intellectual  development,  as  instanced  by  the  remark- 
able knowledge  of  astronomy  and  other  branches  set 
fortli  in  my  iXafive  lidccs.  jVIoreover,  there  existed  at 
Tczcuco  an  institution  under  the  name  of  Council  of 
^lusic,  whose  exclusive  aim  it  was  to  foster  arts  and 
sciences,  and  above  all  oratory,  poetry,  and  similar 
literary  efforts.  Its  members,  selected  purely  on  the 
Hi'ound  of  ability,  held  daily  sessions,  and  formed  a 
tribunal  which  decided  on  the  merits  of  productions 
by  authors,  and  conferred  prizes  that  were  at  times 
niunilicent.  This  academy  exerted  a  decided  hifluenco 
tlii'oughout  Anahuac,  for  the  Acolliua  capital,  although 
iSt'condary  to  Mexico  in  political  power,  retained  the 
leading  position  in  arts  and  refinement  acquired  dur- 
ing the  days  of  Chichimec  grandeur. 

The  emulation  evoked  and  the  taste  impressed 
under  such  auspices  could  not  fail  to  produce  their 
ctfocts.  Oratory  received  particular  attention,  owing 
to  its  intimate  connection  with  public  and  social  affairs 
and  life,  for  speeches  were  the  rule  on  every  conceiva- 
ble occasion.     Prayers  to  the  gods  were  of  a  most 

Essays  AND  MiscKLi.ANY     ^2 


5    m ! 


i 


If   ^v 


1  I 


!..'  , 


m 

lilHBM  1   i'-M 

408 


LITERATURE  OF  COLONIAL  MEXICO. 


elaborate  character ;  addresses  salutatory  or  of  ct)ii- 
dolence,  and  diriner-speeches  received  studied  caic ; 
declaiiiations  and  harangues  flowed  incessantly  at 
feasts  or  reunions  ;  corres[)()ndencc  was  largely  caniid 
on  by  orators.  If  with  all  this  fostenng  care  the  ait 
does  not  possess  any  marked  excellencies,  the  fault 
must  be  attributed  to  the  lack  of  imaginative  powf  r 
so  generally  assumed  for  the  aborigines.  Indeed,  tlic 
style  of  the  orations  so  abundantly  recorded  by  Salia- 
gun  and  other  writers  is  bald,  with  rare  outbursts  of 
eloquence,  and  with  similes  as  a  rule  stupid  or  coin- 
monplace.  The  range  of  the  latter  are  limited  to 
certain  choice  objects  ever  before  the  eye,  rather  tlian 
to  the  grand  or  subtle  phenomena  which  stir  reflertioii 
and  poetic  instinct.  Thought  and  language  alike 
rather  abstain  from  lofty  flights,  to  grovel  with  tlio 
speaker  in  self-abasement.  Terror  and  awe  find  fre- 
quent display,  with  maudlin  plaintiveness,  to  whicli  a 
response  of  tears  is  readily  accorded.  These  retirct 
the  despotic  government  and  bloody  rights  whicli  en- 
slaved both  mind  and  body.  Apostrophe  and  ein- 
pliasis  dwindle  into  feeble  wails  and  appeals,  while  re- 
dundancy and  periphase  with  loose  sentences  charac- 
terize the  construction,  if  we  may  judge  by  Spanisli 
translations.     The  garrulous  and  didactic  prevail. 

Of  poetic  efforts  fewer  specimens  have  been  }>ro- 
served  to  us,  but  the  most  authentic  are  eA'idently  by 
a  man  of  greater  inspiration,  from  Tezcuco  itself  tlic 
Athenian  centre,  with  its  purer  idiom  and  greater 
refinement.  The  poet  is  King  Nezahualeoyotl, 
famed  as  philosopher  and  law-giver,  whose  mind  liad 
freed  itself  in  a  dejxree  from  the  shackles  of  bloodv 
and  debasing  superstition  around  him,  and  souglit  a 
mightier  God,  a  primordial  cause.  Full  of  vicissi- 
tudes, his  life  displayed  to  him  rather  sad  phases  ami 
his  verse  assumed  an  elegiac  cast. 

The  abundance  of  treasures  and  joys,      And  nectar  is  sipped  by  the  ln-e, 

Are  but  noHCgays  that  wither  and  die.     So  ye  enter  to  revel, 

As  the  birds  tlirill  their  melody,  In  the  seasoua  of  flowering  spring. 


ABORIfllNAL  POETRY. 


409 


In  another  poom  he  dwells  on  the  qualities  and 
svinl)(>ls  of  precious  stones  with  les8  happy  eftect ; 
liut  in  spcakin'4'  of  the  brevity  of  life  he  again  presents 
uttraetive  shniles: 

'lilt!  rose  preserves  its  beauty  of  color  and  aspect  so  long  as  the  chaste 
liul-;  tnlU'ct  tlidse  particles  foriiicd  hy  dawn  into  rich  pearls,  to  be  evapo- 
rated in  li(|iiid  spray. 

Kivers,  brooks,  and  waters  rush  onward,  never  returning  to  tlieir  joyous 
Sdiiii  fs.  Tliey  rather  hasten  tow;',rd  llio  vast  domains  of  'I'luluca  (Neptune), 
and  on  approauiiing  tlie  wide  iMirder  tliey  fasluon  the  gloomy  funeral  urn. 

Till!  awe-inspiring  tomb  is  really  a  cradle  for  the  sun  ;  the  dismal  shades 
ai'u  lirilliant  liglits  for  stars." 

Owing  to  distortions  by  translators  it  is  difficult  to 
form  an  opinion  concerning  the  real  merits  of  the 
jdi'ces ;  the  above  lines  can  hardly  be  relied  u[)on. 
Kcverthelcss,  beauty  of  comparisons  must  be  ad- 
mitted, with  a  preference  for  native  objects,  and  even 
cliaracterizes  the  natives  to  this  day.  A  true  poetic 
spirit  is  evinced  far  above  anything  indicatetl  in  ora- 
toriral  and  other  prose  extracts.  The  longer  poem 
cited  in  the  Native  R(trcs,  while  marked  l)y  several  ef- 
fective outbursts,  is  uneven,  with  a  reiteration  of 
metaphor  tliat  reveals  circumscribed  power.  The 
similarity  of  strain  pervading  Nezaliualcoyotrs  verses, 
and  the  tendency  displayed  in  oratory,  indicate  tliat 
tlu'  liappiest  efforts  were  produced  when  sa<!ness 
stirred  the  emotions.  Rhyme  does  not  appear  to  have 
been  used,  but  cadence  and  metre  received  much  at- 
tention, with  a  preference  for  iaml)ic  verse,  according 
to  Granados.  The  introduction  of  unmeaning  sylla- 
bles to  accommodate  the  measure  seems  to  have  been 
common,  and  the  frequent  use  of  agglutination,  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  character  of  the  language,  encum- 
bers the  verse  with  ponderous  words,  sometimes  a 
single  word  to  a  line.  These  crudities  must  greatly 
reduce  the  glowing  estimates  by  Clavigero  and  other 
champions. 

With  the  advent  of  the  Spaniards  a  more  perfect 
Liiiguage  came  to  the  assistance  of  native  thought. 
The  multiplicity  of  aboriginal  dialects  rendered  not 


.')1MI 


LITKUATUUK  OF  COLONIAL    MKXIC'O. 


iii)(lcsiriil)lo  tlio  adoption  ajiionjr  all  classc^-.s  ofatoiiyuc 
so  smooth  and  uniform  as  tin-  S|»iuiish.  lint  m.iiiy 
new  olhstacleH  intervened  aj^ainnt  any  marked  (l(^\('l- 
opment.  Besides  politieal  and  aoeial  restrietions,  :iii 
intense  reli^^ious  spirit  entered  into  every  feature  of 
life,  plaein;^  the  children  of  the  soil  espeeially  in  eiosc 
leadinijr-strinj^s,  from  which  they  were  never  released. 
While  the  rliaraeteristie  mental  defects  remained  ;m 
oh.staele,  the  imitative  bent  enahled  the  Indians  to 
readily  adaj)t  themselves  to  the  wider  field  openetl. 
Their  Spanish  poetry,  modeh^d  on  the  productions  of 
sj)iritual  guides,  does  not  indicate  in  its  crudenessaiid 
me(hocrity  the  liberation  of  a  mind  hitherto  shackled 
l)V  lanijcuaije;  vet  these  defects  may  be  due  partlv  to 
the  novelty  of  medium  ami  the  limitation  of  raiine  hy 
subinissiveness  and  biiijotry.  Translations  into  native 
tongues,  chiefly  of  religious  discourses,  vocabularit  s 
and  grannnars,  form  a  large  part  of  tlieir  contribu- 
tions; and  so  do  sermons  by  ordained  and  lay  preach- 
ers; while  the  more  valuable  part  ridatcs  to  ancient 
history  and  rites,  based  on  documentary  and  tradi- 
tional records,  interesting  and  absorbiuijc  to  them  from 
patriotic  motives. 

Among  the  more  prominent  writers  may  be  nicii- 
tionetl  three  bearing  th(^  princely  name  of  Ixtlilxocliitl, 
Fernando  Pimentel,  his  son  Antonio,  and  Fernaiidn 
de  Alva,  all  three  intent  chiefly  on  recording  the 
glories  of  cheir  Acolhuacan  ancestors.  Alva  stands 
in  the  foremost  rank  of  earlier  Indian  historians,  both 
for  style  and  extent  of  writings,  as  manifested  in  t  lie 
I/istoria  (lii('}ii)ii('<'a  and  l\claciofic.'<,  the  latter  a  series 
of  versions  of  the  same  aboriginal  Viistory.  Indeeil. 
his  diction  is  so  ftir  above  the  av  irge  of  his  surround- 
ings for  clearness,  [)urity,  and  conciseness,  as  to  have 
procured  for  him  the  name  of  the  Cicero  of  Analuia:'. 
But  the  structure  of  sentences  is  uneven,  and  only  ton 
frequently  lax  and  ambiguous.  The  general  grasp  of 
the  subject  is  fair,  but  less  so  the  conformity  of  details. 
Juan  de  Tovar,  who   also    obtained   the    Ciceronian 


E'. , 


CLASSIC   AZTKC   W    ITF.RS. 


rm 


( li'itlu't  for  his  profirionry  in  Aztoc,  i^avo  a  more  liln'ral 
>\\i\vv.  in  liis  liistory  of  the  lake  rt'jjjioii  to  }>r(»viiii(h 
;i(lj(iiniiig  tlic  classic  Tczcuco,  as  tlid  his  father,  An- 
tonio Tovar,  while  Tczozonioc  devott'd  himself  moi'e 
to  the  south-west  section  of  the  valley.  The  latter 
iuccs  greater  appreciation  for  the  deseiiptixe, 
hough  lacking  in  spirit  and  power  of  cX))ression, 
"  '  The 


(A 
i.lt 


with  a  more    prolific    and    crude    phraso(»logy 
annals   of  the    valiant    TIascaltecs    again    found    less 
finished  recorders   in   such  men  as  Tadeu   jMiza,  Ca- 


margo,   and  Zajiata  y 


]\Icnd 


( tza 


Ch 


iniialitam    ranks 


liiLilier  and  is  more  critical;  Poniar  wrote  on  ancient 
ritis;  A  sji'i'iero  ranked  hi'»h  amon<''  iihilolouic  contrihu- 
tors,  ami  the  hrotlu'rs  Ortega  attained  distinction  in 
ecclesiastic  suhjects." 

The  lack   of   imagination   is 


!],,, 


i*Y'nt   thi'ou<>hont 


tln.se  productions  in  the  utter  indill'en'iice  to  dramatic 
opltortunity,  and  in  the  feebleness  of  descrijttive 
cilorts.     It  can  also  be  recoixiiizcd  in  the  verv  excel- 


ncy    of  the  oi)enmg  paragraplis. 


whicl 


1  procec 


d  at 


once 


to  the  subject  instead  of  wasting  theniscKis 
n]M)n  Horid  and  often  ina}»[)roj>riate  prologues,  as  wiih 
Spanish  writers  of  the  time.  The  poverty  of  lan- 
uviage  herein  manifested  is  also  revealed  in  the  wanl 

bellishmi'iit,  so  that  the  dicti<tn  is  rathei-  bare, 


em 


while  obscure  pleonasms,  at  tnnes  veiy  marked, 
It  suit  from  the  same  di-fect.  T\ic  charaeteristii' 
ulooniy  disj)()sition  croj)s  out  fre(|uently,  and  so  do 
llif   inherited    manifestations  of  awe    in  alluding  to 


u;j,e  or  grand  oi) 


■>nii 


jeet^ 


Keligi 


ions  intlueiices  have  here 


planted  aboriginal  terroiism,  ini[>ressiiig  up(»n  the 
mind  its  own  littleness,  antl  assisted  bv  the  inherited 
mysticism,  account  in  a  measure  for  the  poverty  of 
l.inLiuaixe.      A  veiled  satire  can  be  traced  in  manv  of 


t! 


le  writinos,  in  consonance  with  the  observant  vet 


id  tl 


y  dispositU)ii,  and  the  suspicions  subserviency 


.f  tb 


natives.  These  several  traits  have  widely  stamped 
tlit'iiiselves  upon  the  new  mestizo  race,  in  topics,  treat- 
ment, and  diction;  yet  tlie  sanguine    and  vi\acious 


502 


LITERATURE  OF  COLONIAL  MEXICO. 


i:  sat " 


teinpcramoiit  impartod  l)y  the  superior  Iberian  stock 
li.is  naturally  maintained  the  ascendancy  for  tlu; 
Spanish  typo, so  assiduously  impressed  during  a  pro- 
bationary period  of  three  centuries,  by  masters,  lan- 
<'ua<j:c,  and  national  atiiuitv. 

During  the  colonial  times  it  is  often  difficult  to  draw 
the  line  in  the  literature  of  New  S})ain  between  [)ro- 
ductions  that  properly  belong  to  it  and  those  tluit 
appear  to  do  so.  Tliere  are  writers  born  on  the  penin- 
sula but  educated  in  colonies;  some  arrive  there  at  a 
later  age,  yet  are  manifestly  influenced  by  their  new 
environments;  while  others  remain  in  sympathy 
and  methods  true  to  old  ideas;  and  still  otlier.s,  of 
Creole  birth,  receive  their  training  in  Spain,  with  its 
political  and  literary  impress,  or  they  remain  there  to 
gather  laurels  which  belong  by  rights  to  jNTcxicd. 
Again,  in  early  times  especially,  a  large  proportion  of 
their  writers  were  Spaniards  who  remaincxl  only  fora 
time  in  quest  of  fortune,  yet  whose  productions  W(  re 
wholly  inspired  by  New  World  associations,  which 
affected  to  a  great  extent  also  the  form.  We  can,  fur 
instance,  hardly  fail  to  associate  with  the  writings  »if 
this  country  the  celebrated  Cartas  of  Cortes  wliicli 
depict  therein  much  of  th.e  beauty  and  wealth  Hint 
have  since  disappeared ;  which  took  an  impress  from 
it  by  means  of  the  political  and  social  sj'inpathits  df 
the  author,  and  which  left  an  influence  as  one  of  its 
most  [)rolific  sources  f)r  history,  and  as  a  model  for 
style  in  lucid,  pure,  and  frequently  elegant  diction. 

As  for  Bernal  Diaz,  the  gossippy  old-soldier  chron- 
icler, he  was  really  modeled  by  newworhl  experiences, 
and  his  camp  and  field  life  may  be  recognized  in  Uhi 
frank  and  graphic  descriptions  and  occasional  cjmkIc 
outbursts  of  eloquence,  while  the  similes  due  te  a 
certain  amount  of  classic  read iuij,  and  the  monotoneiis 
garrulity,  wi^re  acquired  during  later  retirement  as 
colonist.  For  over  half  a  century  is  he  ideiititi'il 
with  New  Spahi.     And  so  with  many  others,  csiieci- 


M  •  U 


FRIAR  AND  SOLDIER  CHRONICLERS. 


503 


ally  of  friar  chroniclers,  who  not  only  grow  up  with 
tlirir  districts,  but  train  the  generation  as  teachers 
and  writers.  Such  a  one  was  Father  ^lotolinia, 
Avliose  rambling  and  naive  writings  characterize  his 
Y\\\i  and  mind,  and  serve  as  material  for  subseqent  en- 
(juirers  into  aboriginal  and  early  colonial  society  and 
incidents. 

Several  of  his  robe  follow  the  example,  from  duty 
or  from  a  desire  to  record  deeds  by  themselves  and 
coui[)anions — deeds  in  the  missionary  field,  for  the 
cross  gi'adually  replaces  the  sword  and  becomes  the 
(loininant  symbol  of  conquest  and  rule.  And  how 
stirring  are  the  incidents  attending  these  invasions 
tlirough  the  midst  of  hostile  and  savage  tribes,  through 
arid  wildernesses,  in  rugged  mountain  regions,  along 
malaria-stricken  shores,  fighting  both  men  and  nature  1 
At  times  soldier  and  friar  unite,  or  the  one  paves 
the  way  for  the  other;  but  more  and  more  the 
l(tiig-robe  advances, alone  and  unarmed  to  suifcr  priva- 
tions, rebuffs,  insults,  and  danger  of  every  descrij)tion, 
ottcn  to  meet  a  martvr's  fate.  When  successful, 
liow  great  is  the  triunq'h  of  virtuous  example,  of 
cl(i([uence,  of  superior  mind  over  inferior  intelligence; 
and  how  glorious  is  often  the  result  1  It  is  the 
iidvcnt  of  the  modern-culture  hero,  who  gathers 
roaming  tribes  into  settlements,  transft)rms  the  bare 
•ground  into  blooming  gardens,  clothes  the  naked,  cares 
for  the  sick,  and  re[)kiccs  base  or  l)loody  rit(>s  with 
gentle,  elevathig  worship.  Turn  our  eyes  wherever 
wo  may  and  these  peaceful  heroes  meet  them,  no 
longer  as  of  yore  deified,  but  slu'ltcred  beneath  for- 
gotten tonil)stones,  autl  their  names  and  acts  com- 
memorated alone  in  some  vague  tradition,  and  in  the 
clironicles  by  tli(nnselves  or  their  brethriMi. 

Unfortunately  the  record  is  not  in  the  form  of  epic, 
or  invested  with  ^-  mantic  glamour,  but  in  the  barest 
or  most  turgid  «.i  ])rose,  weighted  with  insufferable 
vt'rhiago  and  ambiguity,  and  by  crude  and  careless 
construction,  while  inapprt>priate  digressioiis  tend  still 


;('■ 

■ 

Mi 

I 

1 

i 

1 

1 

:ii'i 


504 


LITERATURE  OF  COLONIAL  MEXICO. 


further  to  break  the  interest.  It  is  a  dreamy  discon- 
nection in  which  both  writer  and  reader  lose  thcin- 
selves,  with  numerous  pitfalls  dug  by  credulity  and 
superstition;  the  whole  stamped  by  the  scholastic 
method  that  prevailed  till  close  upon  the  present  cen- 
tury. Such  is  the  average  character  of  the  friar 
chronicles  and  provincial  histories;  and  no  wonder, 
then,  that  the  most  splendid  achievements  are  so 
veiled  in  the  obscurity  of  treatment  and  of  poor,  pe- 
dantic or  inflated  language  as  to  remain  unnoticed  or 
misunderstood  by  the  ordinary  reader,  and  to  requiri 
the  careful  labor  of  the  student  to  disclose.  Tlie 
style  was  a  natural  result  partly  of  imperfect  train iiio-, 
for  the  friars  were  not  well-read,  any  more  than  tlui.se 
in  Spain;  and  even  the  studies  of  the  more  educated 
had  a  very  narrow  range,  chiefly  thcoh)gical  lore, 
while  few  had  ventured  into  classic  or  scientific  pre- 
cincts. They  wore  not  taught  to  sift  and  weigh ;  tlicy 
accepted  almost  any  tradition  with  the  naive  confi- 
dence demanded  of  true  believers.  Their  minds  had 
ever  been  directed  to  the  holy  precepts  of  their  order, 
as  paramount  to  any  knowledge,  according  to  St 
Francis,  and  they  regarded  it  a  duty  to  their  own  re- 
pute and  to  their  order  to  impress  this  upon  tlie 
reader.  While  the  countr3'men  of  Lope  de  A'c^a 
cannot  be  said  to  lack  dramatic  power,  these  chroni- 
clers seem  to  avoid  the  use  of  it,  or  the  disj^lay  of  ap- 
preciation for  the  grand,  the  beautiful.  It  is  mcvo 
tedious  narrating  of  details,  wherein  the  general  and 
important  features  are  almost  lost,  with  special  atten- 
tion for  traits  of  virtue  and  piety  that  can  point  a 
moral  and  afford  an  excuse  for  digression. 

"Whatever  the  defects  of  these  Chnhiicas  de  Ins  J'/n- 
viitclas,  they  arc  in  many  respects  the  most  important 
and  valuable  source  of  information  concerning  f  1  e 
Hispano- American  territory.  As  the  largest  jwiit 
of  the  country  was  occupied  by  mission  estabnsli- 
ments,  and  as  the  work  of  exploration  and  con- 
quest of  the  native  races  was  so  largely'  carried  on 


i^H 


niOVIXCIAL  HISTORY. 


505 


under  the  auspices  of  the  church,  those  chronicles 
constitute  an  ahnost  complete  record  of  the  earlier 
periods  of  history.  Some  of  them  were  written  in 
the  chronicle  form  direct,  as  a  record  for  the  particu- 
lar district  or  circle  with  which  the  author  was  con- 
nected ;  yet  they  passed  like  ordinary  mission  reports 
to  the  head  convent  of  the  provincia,  there  to  bide 
tlio  time  when  the  leaders  of  the  order  should  assi«rn 
ti»  a  specially  fitted  member  the  task  of  compiling  from 
them  an  authorized  chronicle. 

h\  accordance  with  this  procedure,  Mendicta  pre- 
jiiivd  at  the  close  of  the  sixteenth  century  the  most 
CO  Mi;  let?,  history  so  far  of  Franciscan  labors  in  New 
iSj'iin  '-  ferspered  with  matter  on  politics  and  society. 
Vv  !al;  ii  .^  showiiiLT  u'reat  talent,  the  writer  cannot  be 
iK-('u  W'a\  of  verboseness,  and  the  style  hastho  advantaijje 
of  a  simplicity  which  promotes  clearness.  It  would 
f^ppoarthat  the  defect  of  diction  became  so  tjjlarinj^  to 
the  compiler  that  he  perforce  corrected  himself. 

This  is  also  evident  in  Torquemada,  who,  throujjjh 
tht;  failure  of  Meudicta's  work  to  appear  in  print  till 
our  time,  took  advanta'jjc  of  his  labor, as  well  as  a  h()st 
of  other  writini^s,  to  ifmxiotliG  3I'n)aTqv  fa  hidicnia,  which 
;ittained  the  just  distinction  of  standard  history  for 
Now  Spain,  and  fame  for  the  author  as  the  Livy  of  this 
iv^iou.  He  enil>rac!;d  every  historic  knowled,L?o  within 
his  n^ach,  frou/i  the  earliest  aboriginal  times,  includiny: 
rites,  society,  str.ini^e  phenomena,  the  achievements 
of  liis  Fra'u  !Sr  \r'  (  rdtT,  and  the  lives  of  its  niembers. 
11.0  rises  above  t'u;  n  rre  monk  chroniolor  and  strives 
to  interest  his  ien»I(  rs  by  variety  of  tojiies.as  well  as 
hv^  treatment,  which  n-ceives  no  inconsiderable  aid 
from  a  descrijitive  pi»wer  of  rare  occurrence  among 
his  confreres;  other  faults  remain,  however.  Wliile 
concise  enoujjfh  in  llu^  narratlv((  'jfcnerally,  lie  abandons 
himself  to  inappropriate  dv-»viations  and  wordy  arufu- 
ii'iit,  and  '-^vels  in  l(>arned  references.  Ife  is  en- 
'iross(>(l  v»"t  .  'lio  out]ioui'intjr  of  liis]mtristic  and  classic 
h  ire,  rather       :xu  with  critical   consideration,  and  to 


ii 


m 


1 

li 
m 


<  1 


500 


LITERATURE  OF  COLONIAL  MEXICO. 


tliis  end  sacrifices  also  phraseology^  which  is  marked 
in  particular  by  numerous  parentheses. 

A  less  voluminous  but  more  prolific  writer  on  polit- 
ical, civic  and  relisjjious  history  is  the  creole,  Fatlur 
Augustine  de  Vetancurt,  who  in  his  Tcairo  covers 
very  nearly  the  same  ground  as  Torqueinada,  with 
additional  matter  for  the  seventeenth  century.  All 
this  he  condenses  in  a  much  smaller  space  ;  and  it  is 
only  in  the  religious  subjects  more  directly  from  his 
own  pen  that  he  yields  to  discoursive  laxity. 

An  earlier  creole,  Friar  Antonio  Tello,  author  of 
Cro } I ira  de  Jalisco  o^  ahont  1650,  excels  in  vivid  por- 
trayal and  a  certahj  •'  ^'?  atic  skill,  although  the  dic- 
tion hardly  displaj's  a  ^  ortionate  advance ;  but  this 
is  the  fault  of  his  school,  iiot  of  his  mhid,  wherein  pa- 
triotic zeal  for  his  native  provinces  combines  with  nat- 
ural abilities  to  produce  one  of  the  most  attractive 
colonial  writers. 

Inferior  in  style  is  the  history  of  the  same  province 
writt(  n  nearly  a  century  later  by  Mata  Padilla,  a 
townsman  of  Tello.  His  earlier  profession  as  a  Liw- 
yer  and  his  later  adhesion  to  the  priesthood  are  u-'th 
discernil)le  hi  an  occasional  forensic  form,  and  in  the 
preference  given  to  miracles  and  church  matter,  neither 
of  which  lends  interest  to  the  pages  or  raises  o  .,  esti- 
mate of  his  judgment. 

Ecjually  defective  is  the  Cronica  de  ^Fechocan  by 
Beaumont,  born  in  Europe,  partly  of  French  descent, 
and  educated  as  a  physician  before  he  became  a  Fran- 
ciscan. While  pretending  to  record  merely  the  ])ro- 
gress  of  his  religious  provincia  in  Michoacan,  he  plans 
it  on  a  scale  ambitious  enough  for  a  history  of  the  In- 
(I'^iS,  and  fiiils  to  carry  his  task  beyond  15G5.  The 
same  inequality  applies  to  expression,  niarred  also  ly 
faulty  Spanish,  and  to  discrimination,  which  is  over- 
ruled by  pertinacity  and  religious  bias.  These  blem- 
ishes are  less  excusable  for  the  advanced  period  in 
which  the  work  was  written,  about  1777. 

Contemporary  with  Vetancurt  were  the  friars  Ual- 


WORKS  OF  THE  FATHERS. 


007 


tasar  Medina  and  Diivila  Padilla,  both  natives  of  Mex- 
ico, and  ranking  as  Franciscan  and  Dominican  chron- 
iclers respectively.  The  former  cxliibits  more  research, 
but  also  an  excess  of  patristic  lore,  combined  with  an 
exalted  inflation,  while  the  latter  inclines  to  digres- 
sions and  moralizhig.  The  worst  features  of  these 
monk  scribes,  coupled  with  defective  treatment 
ocnerall}^  are  displayed  in  the  first  Jesuit  chronicle 
of  tlic  same  period,  by  Francisco  de  Florencia,  born 
ill  Florida,  but  otherwise  wholly  connected  with 
N(  w  Spain.  And  yet  this  man  had  achieved  fame 
n<  a  preacher  and  distinction  as  a  manager  for  the 
socictv. 

It  is  evident  that  prose,  wiMi  the  rare  exceptions 
si;j;nalized  in  such  men  as  Siglienza  and  Tello,  does 
not  show  any  imj)r()vementduring  the  first  twocenturies 
and  a  half  of  colonial  ruh%  either  in  treatment  or  style. 
Scholastic  methods  and  ideas  retained  too  firmly  the 
control,  throughout  the  marked  variation  introduced 
by  the  Gongora  school,  with  its  soaring  inflations. 
Solis  became  here  one  of  the  great  models  for  orna- 
DU'iital  form,  by  means  of  his  famous  history  of  the 
conquest,  which  also  assumed  the  Thucydidean  manu- 
facture of  speeches.  If  floridity  itself  did  not  become 
general,  it  nmst  be  partly  ascribed  to  the  slower  ac- 
ceptance of  the  changes  effected  in  Spain,  owing  to 
the  cultivation  of  older  models;  partly  to  the  unsus- 
tained  exaltation  of  the  Creoles  and  the  lack  of  imaofi- 
nation  among  the  natives.  The  rarer  mestizo  writers 
evince,  indeed,  less  appreciation  for  the  cultismo  style. 
The  marked  pievalence  among  tlieni  of  aborighial 
traits  is  manifested  also  in  naivete  and  crudeness  of 
diction,  while  a  tendency  to  flippancy  and  verbiage  is 
derived  from  the  other  race.  A  representative  of 
this  class  may  be  consulted  in  Father  Duran,  who  re- 
veals in  the  Hisforia  de  las  Indias  not  only  povert}'  of 
ex])ression,  but  a  slovenly  pen.  It  is  relieved,  how- 
even',  by  earnestness,  and  a  certain  ability  to  portray 
character.     The  contemporaneous  Noticlas  Ilidoricm 


608 


LITEIlA'rUllE  OF  COLONIAL  MEXICO. 


of  Suarez  Poralta  di.si)]ays  many  similarities  to  the 
clironicle  of  Beriial  Diaz. 


Towards  the  end  of  the  last  century  the  revival 
emanating  from  France  in  favor  of  a  more  classic  and 
sedate  tone  became  conspicuous,  notably  so  in  the 
writiii!:^  of  the  Jesuits,  Alegre,  Clavigero,  Cavo,  and 
Mariano  Veytia,  who  raidc  as  the  foremost  historians 
of  their  period  in  New  Spain.  All  were  Creoles  l)y 
birtli,  and  animated  by  the  patriotic  spirit  which  was 
rai)i(lly  sj)readiiig,  and  fostered  both  political  and  lit- 
erary ambition.  Clavigero  had  acquired  a  sympathy  (( ir 
the  aborigines,  and  resolved  to  ui)hoId  their  prestige 
against  tlio  attacks  of  Do  Pauw  and  Robertson.  The 
result  was  a  work  on  their  history  and  customs,  to- 
gether witli  the  Spanish  conquest,  that  wholly  eclipsed 
every  previous  attempt  in  this  direction  for  couiprc- 
henslveness  and  philosopliic  treatment,  for  clear  and 
even  elegant  style.  It  was  written  in  the  language 
of  Italv,  v-^he^e  the  exiled  Jesuit  had  soui^ht  a  new 
home,  but  the  dedication  is  directed  to  the  native 
country.  Veytia  wrote  also  on  the  ancient  history 
of  the  Mexicans,  from  Boturini's  collected  records; 
but  while  throwing  additional  light  on  the  subject,  lie 
shows  far  less  ability.  I  have  spokon  of  his  other 
works  elsewhere. 

His  townsman,  Francisco  Javier  Alegre,  had  a  sim- 
ilar training,  except  that  he  devoted  himself  to  classics 
instead  of  aboriginal  studies,  and  attained  such  dis- 
tinction in  theology  as  to  be  ordered  to  write  on  ecil- 
siastic  institutions,  his  famous  work  being  publislu  il  at 
Bologne  in  178D,  a  jear  after  his  death.  Besides sevt- 
ral  treatises  on  mathematics,  he  translated  the  IHnd, 
and  pnuluced  original  poems.  His  sentences  are  stud- 
ied and  the  diction  is  chaste  and  unaffected,  but  tlic 
same  praise  cannot  be  accorded  to  the  arrangement,  and 
consefjucntly  to  handling,  which  lack  connection  and 
generalization,  while  subtle  casuistry  and  doubtful  ra- 
tiocination seek  ever  to  shield  or  gild  the  Jesuit  cause. 


CREOLE  WRITERS. 


."509 


Andres  Cavo  is  not  devoid  of  the  latter  fault,  but 
lie  has  less  occasion  for  it,  since  lie  writes  rather  the 
[lolitical  history  of  the  country.  While  more  succinct 
and  orderly,  he  is  too  strictl}'  chronologic  for  the  re- 
quirements of  true  history,  and  sinks  through  this 
iiictliod  into  the  annalistic  form  to  which  Alegro  is  led 
by  a  somewhat  different  road.  His  style  is  less  pu.e 
ami  rounded,  yet  not  diffuse.  The  pages  present  the 
jjliasing  evidence  of  research  in  foot-notes,  which,  as  a 
rule,  however,  are  mere  titles  of  authorities  used. 
Still,  it  is  a  departure  from  the  long-established  fashion 
of  marginal  references  for  quotations,  with  which  the 
text  was  burdened  to  the  interruption  of  the  regular 
narrative.  A  smaller  size  of  volume  also  begins  to 
prevail  in  lieu  of  huge  folios  or  bulky  quartos  with 
(l()ul)le  columns.  The  influence  of  new  models  is 
everywhere  apparent.'* 

Biography  was  a  field  to  which  churchmen  gave 
much  attention,  as  a  means  to  inculcate  upon  their 
Hocks  the  lessons  taught  by  the  observance  of  virtu- 
ous and  ascetic  friars  and  hermits.  But  the  aim  nmst 
iiave  been  greatly  nullified  by  n^jthod.  Amplification 
of  pitty  details  concerning  the  uninteresting  lives  of 
su(  h  persons,  with  monotonous  recurrences  to  their 
(lovotional  acts  in  cell  and  cha])el,  and  to  crude  rha})- 
sodies,  could  hardly  have  given  weight  to  their  instruc- 
tion. Nevertheless,  the  earnest  tone  of  the  narrator 
must  have  inffuenced  the  reader,  while  the  exalted 
mysticism  of  the  topic  could  not  fail  to  counteract 
ill  a  measure  the  defects  of  stvle.  Involved  ijlirase- 
olooy  mio'ht  almost  be  declared  suitable  for  such  do- 
tails,  and  rambling  discourse  accorded  with  the  general 
gossippy  taste.  After  Gongora's  time  grandil()(|uen('e 
added  its  faults  and  allurements,  and  is  paiticularly 
illustrated  in  the  obituary  eulogies  bestowinl  on 
Wealthy  hulividualsand  pul)lished  by  devoted  families. 

Toward  the  end  of  the  colonial  period  we  conu;  to 
Works  of  greater  merit,  as  instanced  in  De  Vitis  allqaot 


610 


LITERATURE  OF  COLONIAL  MEXICO. 


Mcxkanorum,  by  Juan  Luis  Manciro,  ati  exiled  Jesuit 
of  Vera  Cruz.  Here  is  displayed  the  yearning  patriot- 
ism of  the  refugee,  combined  with  the  classic  bent  of 
the  scholar,  the  lives  and  charactei'S  of  prominent 
men  in  little  known  Aniihuac  bein«jc  faithfully  por- 
trayed,  while  fellow-exiles,  as  Clavigoro  and  Landivar 
described  her  antiquities.  Although  there  is  no  jti»- 
parent  effort  at  the  investigation  or  analysis  re<|uir»  d 
in  modern  biography,  the  author  enters  with  s])irit  into 
his  subject,  and  introduces  most  happy  comparisons, 
frequently  expressed  in  neat  and  graceful  sentences. 

The  first  efforts  in  didactic  treatises  were  directed 
toward  the  civilizing  of  the  natives,  or  rather  tlieir 
conversion,  for  little  instruction  was  imparted,  save 
in  religious  lessons  and  the  rudimentary  knowledge 
required  to  master  them.  The  catechisms  and  moial 
disquisitions  in  use  were  based  on  authorized  versions 
from  Spain ;  but  their  translation  for  the  benefit  of 
teachers  and  pupils  gave  rise  to  an  array  of  vocabu- 
laries and  grammars,  owing  to  the  multiplicity  of  lan- 
guages and  dialects,  as  set  forth  in  my  Native  Jxacn^. 

The  natives  appear  prolific  in  this  field,  either  as 
assistant  or  independent  authors,  yet  they  were  an- 
ticipated by  early  friars,  such  as  Father  Gante,  Jime- 
nez, and  Molina,  whoso  Aztec  Foca6w^am  remains  tlie 
standard  to  this  day;  and  later  they  were  surpassed 
by  such  men  as  Becarra  Tanco.^' 

To  the  friars  also  are  mainly  due  the  educational  and 
philosophic  treatises  occasionally  issued,  as  well  as 
works  on  geography,  botany,  and  medicine.  In  none 
of  these  is  shown  any  marked  development,  although  a 
few  discoveries  were  made  with  which  to  supplement 
the  more  valuable  and  standard  books  by  speeiaHsts, 
which  either  covered  the  field  beforehand  or  seived  as 
guides  toward  it.  Alegre  and  Palafox  figure  promi- 
nently as  writers  on  ecclesiastical  institutions. 

Ancient   history,  and   rites  and  speculations  con- 


DIDACTIC  theatises. 


811 


ncctcd  witli  it,  had  naturally  engaged  tlio  attention  of 
putriotic  natives,  allured  by  ancestral  gh^ries  and  rec- 
ords, which  often  proved  their  only  consolation  amid 
the  oppression  practised  upon  them  ;  but  the  investi- 
gation of  archaiologic  remains  was  neglected,  and  only 
toward  the  close  of  the  last  century  did  it  receive 
official  patronage,  and  become  prominent  under  the 
auspices  of  scholars  like  Gama. 

The  revelations  made  in  this  connection  on  nboriir- 
iiial  astronomy  gave  fresh  encouragement  m  general 
to  scientific  studies,  in  which  there  had  so  far  been 
only  occasional  dabbling.  The  earliest  to  achieve 
prominence  in  this  field  was  Sigiienza,  a  man  of  most 
versatile  attaiinnents,  figuring  also  as  historian,  phil- 
osopher, essayist,  and  journalist,  the  first  to  issue  in 
^[oxico,  in  1603,  a  periodical  for  promoting  literary 
and  scientific  knowledge.  His  voluminous  writings 
embraced  contributions  on  archa^ologic  subjects  and 
geography,  and  ho  created  wide-spread  attention  I)}'- 
liis  attacks  on  superstitions  connected  with  comets  and 
astrology.  While  so  nmch  in  advance  of  his  time  in 
these  respects,  he  was  by  no  means  free  from  bigotry 
in  other  directions.  He  rciected  the  most  flatterin<jf 
appointments  in  order  to  devote  himself  more  exclu- 
sively to  religious  and  benevolent  duties,  and  to  study. 
His  fertile  pen  had  recourse  also  to  poetry,  of  a  sacred 
cast,  and  of  no  mean  order,  as  may  be  judged  from  the 
attractive,  even  elegant  style  of  his  prose. 

Hardly  less  versatile  was  Becerra  Tanco,  as  math- 
ematician, linguist,  and  poet,  and  the  scientist  and 
critic  Algate,  who  flourished  nearly  a  century  later, 
and  occupied  by  means  of  his  Gazcta  and  other  pul)li- 
cations  a  position  corresponding  to  that  of  the  reformer 
Foijoo  in  Spain." 

Eguiara  and  Beristain  rank  as  the  first  recognized 
bibliographers  of  New  Spain,  the  main  reliance  for  all 
who  may  follow  in  this  path.  Their  sources  lay  in 
lists  partial  or  complete  by  chroniclers  of  religious 
provinces,  but  they  unearthed  a  mass  of  new  material 


i 


I 


m 


m 


812 


LITERATURE  OF  COLONIAL  MEXICO. 


anrl  njroped  also  in  the  pages  of  European  investijjja- 
tors,  surh  as  Nicolds  Antonio,  whoso  ty[)ical  work, 
Jiihliofhcca  Uiapana,  assuniud  under  the  hands  of  Mars 
and  others  so  complete  a  condition,  marred  thougli  it 
is  l)y  nmch  confusion. 

More  facts,  if  less  inspiration,  did  they  draw  from 
Antonio  de  Leon  y  Pinelo,  who  in  his  Epitome  di  la 
Jjibliofltcca  Oriental  i  Occidental,  Ndiitica  i  (Jcixji-afini, 
Madrid  1629,  presented  the  first  American  hililiog- 
raphy.  This  formed  but  a  small  abridgement  of  the 
vast  material  which  his  long  and  close  researches  liuJ 
amassed,  and  their  value  becoming  nK)re  a[)pareiit,  J  Gar- 
cia, in  1737-8,  under  superior  auspices,  issued  an  en- 
larged edition,  in  three  volumes,  enriched  fromdiiferciit 
sources,  for  Pinelo's  manuscripts  had  nearly  all  disap- 
peared by  this  time.  The  division  indicated  in  the 
title  of  the  first  publication  is  maintained  also  here, 
and  a  triple  index  gives  ready  access  to  an}^  work ; 
but  far  less  care  and  thoroughness  is  evident  tliau 
could  have  been  expected.  Pinelo  is  of  special  intir- 
est  to  us  in  being  not  only  a  Creole,  born  in  Peru,  but 
official  chronicler  of  the  Indies,  and  one  of  the  editors 
of  the  Recopilacion  de  Indias,  in  which  latter  post  lie 
was  succeeded  in  1634  by  Solorzano  Pereira,  a  change 
pointing  no  doubt  to  his  death  about  this  time. 

Stinmlated  both  by  the  material  and  deficiencies  of 
these  sources,  Juan  Jose  de  Eguiara  y  Eguren  uiKJcr- 
took  his  Bihliotheca  Mexicana  sive  enuUtorum  llixiorki 
vironim,  Mexico  1755,  which  is  really  a  historical  and 
bibliographic  dictionary  of  New  Spain  writers.  I  n- 
fortunately,  death  in  1763  put  an  end  to  his  taslc  at 
the  letter  J,  and  only  the  first  three  letters  appeared 
in  the  above  rare  volume.  Although  prolix  and  non- 
critical,  the  work  possesses  merits  which  must  ev(  r 
cause  us  to  regret  its  abrupt  termination.  Eguiai-a 
was  born  at  Mexico  in  1706,  of  a  distinguished  familv, 
studied  at  the  university  there  and  long  held  one  of 
its  theologic  chairs,  receiving  a  number  of  important 
commissions  and  in  1751  the  offer  of  the  Yucatan  see, 


PULTMT  MKTHODS. 


618 


wliirli  lio  declined.  He  is  one  of  tlie  most  prolific  of 
Mexican  wi iters  on  biography,  jurisprudence,  and 
riiictly  religious  subjects,  but  only  a  small  part  of  his 
woiks  exist  in  print,  of  which  my  library  contains  more 
than  a  dozen,  while  bibliographers  notice  only  a  few. 
His  bibliograj)hic  manuscripts  were  not  left  to  ob- 
livion, however,  for  Jose  Mariano  Beristain  Martin  do 
Souza,  of  Puebla,  dean  of  ^Mexico  and  rector  of  Sau 
Pedro  college,  celebrated  both  for  varied  attainments 
and  eloquence,  took  up  his  labors  and  made  use  of 
them  for  the  Bihliotcca  Hiqiano-Amcrkana  Seyini' 
trhnial,  Mexico,  181G-21,  contahiing  nearly  4,000  lit- 
erary notices,  which  form  the  most  comjdete  series 
prepared  on  New  Spain,  yet  are  so  faulty,  with  nmti- 
liited  titles  and  careless  statements,  as  to  induce  Icaz- 
haleeta  to  report  against  the  revision  and  reprint  of  a 
work  esteemed  chiefly  for  its  rarity.  Many  of  the 
clefects,including  the  omission  of  anonymous  works, 
are  due  to  his  nephew,  who  edited  the  last  two 
volumes,  for  Beristain  died  in  1817  at  the  age  of  61. 
He  had  proved  a  valiant  champion  for  the  expiring 
monarchy  in  the  new  world,  and  mostof  his  ])ublished 
orations,  poems,  and  other  writings  served  to  uphold 
tliat  feature,  even  to  servility.'* 

It  has  been  said  that  Spanish  genius  is  opposed  to  for- 
ensic eloquence ;  and  Iberian  institutions  certainly  were 
so  to  oratory  in  general,  for  with  the  suppression  of  the 
cornvnidadcs  no  opportunity  for  parliamentary  discus- 
sion arose  till  the  present  centur3^  Pul})it  rhetoric 
also  met  with  restrictions  in  the  very  nature  of  the 
religion,  which  was  one  of  form,  with  appeal  to  the 
senses  rather  than  to  the  soul.  Preachers  accordiiiijlv 
inclined  to  descriptive  and  exhortative  appeals  to  the 
oiiKjtions,  instead  of  seeking  to  reach  the  higher  facul- 
ties of  the  mind.  Wliile  illustrations  from  the  scrip- 
tures formed  a  primary  element,  it  was  deemed  neces- 
sary to  introduce  Latin  quotations  and  patristic  lore, 
and  this  with  such  profusion  as  often  to  lose  sight  of 

Essays  and  Miscellany     3a 


fis'l" 


il 


§ 


■;sl  • 


1- 


all 


LITKKATUUE   OF  COLONIAL    MKXICO. 


the  main  object,  the  toac'liiniif  of  moral  lessons. 
Others  abated  somewhat  from  theoh)gic  leariuiii,'  (»iilv 
to  weave  the  text  in  florid  rcdundaney.  A  tliird  class 
reveled  in  metaphors  and  mysticisms  to  such  an  ex- 
tent as  to  lead  astray  both  preaclier  and  audience  in 
the  maze  of  words  and  ideas.  Certain  others  indulj;!  d 
in  polemical  harangues  or  yielded  to  an  irmate  Ix'nt  tor 
anecdotes,  not  always  appropriate,  yet  servhig  the  pur- 
pose of  vehicle  for  the  exhortation. 

Amonijf  the  bri'dit  lisjrhts  in  these  fields  mav  be  in- 
stanced  the  Jesuit  Avendano,  toward  tlie  end  of  tlic 
sixteenth  century,  whose  eloquence  procured  for  li'nn 
the  appellation  of  the  Mexican  Vioira;  Mancilla,  who 
acquired  celebrity  for  his  anecdotal  discourses;  licon, 
noted  for  mysticism  and  metaplior;  Ilobles,  Jesus 
Maria,  and  others  famed  for  floridity  and  lore.  In 
marked  distinction  to  these  appear  the  chaste  and 
pointed  addresses  of  men  like  Archbishop  JNTufinz  do 
Haro  y  Peralta,  for  a  time  viceroy,  witli  his  true  iiitiral 
teachings,  drawn  from  life  as  well  as  books,  ad(hv>:- 
'n\<y  now  a  tender  hivocatiou,  now  an  effective  aivu- 
ment,  then  a  lofty  apostrophe,  anon  a  stirring  appe;d/' 

Another  man  of  remarkable  prominence  as  oiatnr 
was  Conde  y  Oqucndo,  who  figured  both  in  the  fi»runi 
and  the  temple  of  JMexico,  although  born  and  eiln- 
cated  at  Habana,  and  who  received  the  prize  of  tl it- 
royal  academy  for  one  of  his  efforts."  Of  more  pro- 
found talent  was  Francisco  Javier  Gamboa,  the  l»rlL,dit 
starof  jNTexican  jurisprudence,  from  tlie  eminence  wliicli 
he  attained  as  rcjjente  of  the  audiencia,  and  for  tlio 
impulse  he  gave  to  the  studj'  of  the  profession.  Ho 
was  born  at  (iuadalajai-a  in  1717,  and  early  evincM d  a 
talent  which  caused  his  parents  to  de(ncate  liini  li>  a 
literar}'  career.  After  his  father's  early  dcatli  Oider 
Ccrda  of  that  city  fulfilled  his  desire  by  sending  liim 
to  the  university  at  Mexico  to  study  law.  The  pios- 
pects  in  this  path  were  splendid  enough  for  his  aniliii  leii. 
since  a  lawyer  of  standing  could  make  as  nuu  li  i»s 
$50,000  a  year,  despite  the    restrictions   placed   by 


ORATORY. 


r>i: 


Icssitna. 
iiijj;  ()ii!y 
lird  class 
I  an  cx- 
jioncr  in 
indul'j;!  (I 
!  IxMit  for 

the  pur- 

ly  bo  ill- 
id  of  llio 
for  liiiii 
pilla.Avlio 

OS,  «)csus 
lore.  ]  11 
lasto  ill  1(1 
iFufioz  do 
rue  iiitiral 

ad(lrr>-.. 
ive  nr;iu- 
f  appeal."' 
as  oratiir 

ho  fnVUlll 

and  c'lu- 

IZC  of   tilt' 

iiorc  pi'O- 
liobrii^ht 
ticcwliii'h 
1  for  the 
ion.  He 
oviiifcd  a 
liiiii  to  a 
itli  Oidor 
dinu'  liii'i 
Vhv  juos- 
aniliiiioii. 
niucli  as 
ilaocd   l>y 


statiiu.  n  Ills  yalns.  The  sudden  death  of  the  hct^n- 
tiate  under  wliom  lie  Avas  praetisinii;,  j>resented  an 
opportunity  for  puhhe  display  whieh  at  once  launelied 
liiiii  into  lanie.  The  b(>ard  of  trad*;  entrusted  him 
ill  17.^5  witli  important  e«»innnssions  in  Spain,  and  so 
\\rll  did  he  use  the  means  cast  hi  his  way  that  lie 
^i.;urcd  ten  years  afterward  as  a  member  of  the  audi- 
tiifia.  Suspected  of  i)artiality  for  the  Jesuits,  he  was 
ill  I70U  summoned  to  Madrid,  but  behaved  with  such 
(li>('retion  as  to  be  sent  back  five  years  later  with  tlu' 
laiik  of  oidor.  lie  finally  attained  the  high  pinsition 
of  roLTente  of  the  audiencla,  after  having  for  a  time 
(iccupicd  a  similar  office  at  Santo  Domuigo;  ho  died 
ill  .lunc  17'.)4.  Besides  avast  number  of  briefs  ho 
]( ft,  tri'atises  on  sciences,  statistics,  and  other  suljjects. 
Of  three  volumes  printed,  one,  the  Comcufarins  d  las 
(>i-<!('nanzas  dc  Mina.^,  was  highly  commended." 

With  the  example  of  Caniboa  before  thoni,  and  the 
av(  iiues  opened  by  revolution,  the  modern  !Mexi(  an 
lias  develoj)ed  a  marked  aptitude  for  at  least  emo- 
ti^iiial  oratory,  to  which  impulsiveness,  volubility,  and 
St  If-confidcnco  lend  their  aid. 

The  impulsiveness  of  the  Spanish  ch.aracter,  cou- 
pled with  a  light  guiety  which  a])peared  at  variance 
Avitli  the  stately  punctiliousness  then  }>i'evalcnt,  but 
which  really  formed  a  natural  oflfset  to  it,  in  accord 
with  universal  duality,  found  an  appropriate  vent  in 
iiii'trical  motion  as  well  as  metrical  language.  The 
two  forms  agree  well  together,  for  the  poetry  is 
chirily  lyric  and  dramatic,  and  it  must  be  admitted 
that  little  evidence  is  to  be  found  in  verse  of  the  lofty 
and  sustained  efforts  demanded  in  the  true  epic  ;  in- 
deed the  national  character  has  become  less  favoral)le 
for  this  higher  combination.  As  for  the  heroic 
tliomes  of  old  Spain,  they  found  no  effective  response 
m  the  indolent  Creole:  none  of  the  strong  imagination 
neo<led  to  mould  the  fancies  of  a  prevailing  oriental- 
ism into  clearer  forms,  or  to  elude  the  restraints  of 


S16 


LITERATUKK  OF  COLONIAL  MKXICO. 


tradition  and  rule.  The  latter  applies  more  to  tlie 
j»i  ninsular  stamp,  however,  for  Spanish  poetry  is 
strongly  national,  despite  the  successive  iniiuence  of 
Italian  and  French  scliools,  which  afiected  it  only  in 
certain  features. 

The  distinctivdicss  is  duo  no  less  to  the  nationr.l 
character  tlian  to  the  n)arked  suitability  of  the  lan- 
guage for  versification,  notably  in  forming  rhyme,  not 
only  consonantal,  but  alliterative  and  assonaiital. 
The  last  is  so  common  and  brought  to  such  perfcctinii 
as  to  be  considered  a  Spanish  feature.  With  its  aid 
double  or  even  triple  rhyme  is  readily  produced,  and 
poems  of  consIderal)lo  length  may  be  found  of  o\u' 
continuous  rhyme,  as  in  Arabic  literature.  The 
S[)aniard  in  this  respect  prefers  the  predominant 
intonation  to  monotonous  endings.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  facility  for  this  form  of  rhythm,  gn-at  abuse 
has  crept  in,  degenerating  into  mere  recurrence  of 
unaccented  consonants,  and  similar  license.  Tlie  fa- 
vorite metre  is  trisyllabic  and  redondillas,  or  oetn- 
sy liable  quatrains;  stanzas  of  four  lines  are  the  nio.^t 
connnon  form  of  verso. 

While  tlie  ballad  has  ever  retained  its  hold  ^n 
[)opular  taste,  sonnets  were  even  more  fri'(|uent  than 
ill  Spain,  as  miglit  of  course  be  expected  from  the 
prevalent  formality  and  imitation,  and  the  direct  in- 
iiuence of  the  Italian  school.  The  true  elegy,  wiili 
its  subued  gentleness,  accords  less  with  Spanish  dU- 
positlon,  and  this  ajiplies  also  to  satires  of  a  personal 
character,  but  epigrammatic  verse  is  common,  thouuli 
it  inclines  to  erotic  sentiment.  The  pastoral,  which  at- 
tains so  true  a  ring  amid  the  happy  environments  of  tlu^ 
Ibi^'ian  uplands,  fails  to  obtain  a  full  response,  and 
descriptive  po(>try  still  sufters  from  apathetic  negli  it, 
although  not  to  such  extent  as  manifested  by  the  early 
Spanish  verse-makers,  who  passed  by  with  conijiarr.- 
tivo  indiflerencc  scenery  so  stirring  as  that  pn  st  iit'  d 
in  a  transit  from  the  miasmatic  lowland  of  tlie  \svM 
coast,  through  the  varied  features  of  the  tierra  f-  ni- 


1 


rOETKY   AND  ,SON(J. 


517 


[tlada  wrapped  in  eternal  spring,  on  to  tlie  lofty  pla- 
tiaii  scauied  with  sncjw- peaked  ranges  and  smoulder- 
ing volcanoes.  Tlie  Mexican  }»oet  turns  to  nature 
iiH  identaljy  rather  tlian  from  ai>i»reciative  admiration, 
;iii(l  Jike  the  cliild  sj»<)il('d  l»y  ovi'i-indulgcncc,  lit' 
virlds  it  r(  luctant  tribute,  phicing  it  in  subservience 
t(i  other  incentives. 

Notwithstanding  the  obstacles  against  the  higliest 
realms  of  fancy,  the  faciUties  presenteil  by  the  lan- 
;j,u;igo  and  the  musical  tastes  of  a  vivacious  [teoplc 
liil  to  wide-spread  attempts  in  tliis  direction,  undir 
tilt  fostering  amenities  of  serenading,  of  social  reunions, 
and  of  fre(iuent  religious  and  official  ci'ivmonics.  Tin 
{■liurch  had  implanted  a  })ri'dikction  for  festivals  with 
licr  numerous  celebrations,  and  tlie  Creoles,  ever  glad 
of  an  excuse,  yielded  readily  to  the  allui'ement.  Too 
lUMud  to  eiiLjan'c  in  occui)ations  in  which  inferior  races 
inid  classes  com[)cted,  and  allowed  only  a  limited 
slian.'  of  political  and  ecclesiastical  ottiees  by  a  suspi- 
ridus  government,  which  favored  its  more  immediate 
liruteges,  the  ujjper  colonial  elements  were  forced  into 
the  condition  of  idlers,  led  by  training  to  the  cultiva- 
tion chiefly  of  letttsrs,  and  esjtecially  of  [)oetry,  as  l)e.st 
iii  consonance  with  their  indisposition  ft»r  earnest 
;ip]plieation. 

Iksides  tliese  incentives  for  their  muse,  oppoituni- 
tiis  presented  themselves  in  the  custom  ot"|)articipating 
ill  the  published  eflbrts  of  friends  by  prefatory  obser- 
vation? (in  the  woj-k  or  its  writer,  naturally  of  a  eulo- 
'iisiic  nature,  and  chielly  in  metric  form.  The  (»rigin 
iif  tht'  jiractice  lay  in  tlie  obligation  imp<tse<l  by  Span- 
ish laws  for  presenting  testimony  from  jtersons  of  re- 
|iutr(!  k'urning  and  of  exjieriitice  in  the  sul)ject  treated, 
and  from  ecclesiastical  and  political  authorities,  vouch- 
ing above  all  for  tlii'  moral  and  loyal  tone  of  the  book. 
Ill  order  to  promote  its  successful  jiassage  through 
t!i''  censorial  office,  as  well  as  to  court  public  intert  st, 
MUtlidi's  sought  as  many  influential  and  frii'iidly  coin- 
iii' iidations  as  i>ossible.      Not  infrequently  thes"  ea- 


iis 


618 


LITKKATUUE  OF   COLONIAL   MEXICO. 


!  !i' 


I  i 


comimns  surpassed  in  volume  and  beauty  tlie  tin  mo 
itself. 

In  all  this  there  was  little  spontaneous  outpouiiii^ 
of  soul,  hut  rather  a  toyinjjj  with  verse  for  pastime  and 
[)anderinj^  to  vanity,  to  a  display  of  skill  in  eojistnir- 
tion,  and  acquaintance  with  classics.  The  shnj)]c  style 
of  tlie  sixteentli  century  had  small  attraction  for  sin  li 
tritlers,  hut  as  tliey  grew  in  numher,  relief  canic  tu 
them  during  the  following  century,  after  a  coui'so  in 
the  Ivric  channels  of  Herrera,  the  dramatic  of  Cal<lc- 
ron,  and  in  the  cultismo  of  G()iigora,  Its  false  glittir 
and  floridity,  its  tropes  and  play  on  words,  secniin!  a 
revival  of  the  inflation  which,  under  Lucan,  niiukcd 
the  decline  of  Koman  i>oetry.  It  supplied  the  lack  of 
inspiration  and  ideas  with  word  painting  and  pedoiitn . 
but  instead  of  approaching  the  combination  of  stiisi 
and  gilding  of  a  Pope,  it  degenerated  rnpidly  into  a 
meaningless  jingle.  Anything  was  accepUxl,  so  long 
as  it  rose  al)ove  des[)ised  simj)licitv. 

IVIeaningless  ti^rnis  and  phrases  are,  for  that  matttr. 
common  among  S[>anish-American3,  in  harmony  alike 
with  Creole  traits  and  iidierited  aboriginal  forms.  Tli- 
lack  of  imagination  among  Indians,  and  of  depth  and 
earnestness  among  the  otlii-r  races.  C(ind)ine(l  heie  tu 
})rocure  for  the  annriilif^to  tdement  of  the  ^jlc'iiigoni 
circle  a  wide  and  lasting  resi^onse ;  vet  this  extiava- 
gant  iliij^ht  in  both  fancy  and  diction  is  bv  no  nie;iiK 
so  ina[)[)rt)priate  to  Spanish  language  and  sjiirit  as  it 
Would  he  to  us.  The  predominance  (»f  religious  tepics 
is  due  not  alone  to  long,  bigoted  training,  but  to  n  dis- 
position among  the  masses  to  be  readily  impressed  ly 
an  exalted  mvsticism  lost  in  innnature  and  lialf-ilrliind 
expressions.  Another  cjiaractcn'istic  of  the  jxietiy  is 
an  intermingling  of  fanciful,  though  only  too  ot'ttii 
forced,  conceit,  manifested  in  ej)igi"innnatic  points  niid 
half-mischievous  jests,  corresponding  to  the  f//v"  /">" 
spirit  of  the  drama,  and  particularly  cons]ncuou>  m 
the  rustic  vilhnicico  son<j:s,  with  their  refrains,  wliioli 
form  a  usual  accompaniment  to  the  dance  music. 


HISTORIC  VERSE. 


519 


Tlio  acliievcments  of  the  conquerors  could  not  fail 
to  stir  dcsrendants  who  at  their  feet  had  listened  to 
narratives  of  dano-ers  encountered  and  scenes  belield. 
Indeed,  the  generation  after  the  subjugation  found 
tilt'  Creole,  Antonio  de  Saavedra  y  Guzman,  initiating 
the  to[)ic  with  A7  Jhrf/ruio  Indkiiio,  which  conunenio- 
raU'S  in  offara  rima  the  doin2[s  of  Cortes  and  his  com- 
|>aiiions;  but  he  lacks  dramatic  instinct  and  spirit,  and 
drsccnds  to  a  rhyming  chronicler  of  somewhat  vulijar 
Stamp.'  A  similar  attempt  was  made  more  than  a 
century  later  by  Francisco  Iluiz  do  Leon,  who  gives 
his  e))ic  the  very  ap})ro})riate  title  of  7/m?«;/<//(/.  It 
is  really  a  synopsis  from  Solis,  beginning  with  the 
discovery  voyages  to  New  S])ain,  and  closing  with  the 
tall  of  Mexico,  the  w'h(*le  comprised  in  twelve  cantos 
(it'al)out  one  hundred  and  twenty  octaves  each,  issued 
at  j\[adrid  in  1755.  No  appreciation  is  shown  for 
scenery,  and  little  tact  in  depicting  incidiMits,  or  ])or- 
travhig  character.  The  strain  is  more  ambitious  than 
till!  preceding,  however,  with  frequent  use  (»f  classic 
terms  and  metaphors,  although  as  a  rule  forced.  For 
instance : 

Eolo  (losata  do  su  (Jruta  ojiaca 

Kl  v(ilul)lo  Ks(|ua(lr()n,  (juo  en  siivos  rouoo.-s, 

Rompe  los  Mdiitcs,  cmi  <juo  mas  Ic  atraoa, 
V   I'^scdUo.s  parto,  ([uando  Imela  Trcmons; 

Retirase  cl  Alcymi  do  la  rusaca, 

Rusoa  ol  Eclu'ii^is  Ion  IVnasci).-*  broncos, 

Y   los  iniulos   |)i.lliiu's  tostilicaii 

El  tiuinpo,  (juo,  avisatlos,  pninoHtican, 

Tlic  author  was  a  native  of  Tehuacan,  and  lived  in 
r(  tirement."^ 

Midway  between  these  two,  between  the  simplicity 
of  Saavedra  and  the  Horidity  of  Leon,  may  be  placed 
a  fragment  of  the  unfinished  Nvcro  Mniido  by  Fran- 
eisco  de  Terrazas,  a  son  of  Cortes'  mayordomo,  which, 
to^tjier  with  some  lyrics  from  the  same  pen,  indicate 
a  studv  of  Herrera's  classic  stvle.^' 

A  immber  of  verse-makers  figured  durijig  the  inter- 
vals marked  by  the  above  n^presentative  historic  poems, 
and   strove  in  vain  to  obtain  a  place  by  their  side,  in 


Ml 


520 


LITERATURE  OF  COLONIAL   MEXICO. 


notoriety  at  least,  for  similar  productions.  Amonir 
these  may  be  mentioned  tlie  Hi^ioria  de  Mexico  en  verso 
rcistelkmo,  1623,  by  Arias  Villalobos,  wliicli  seeks  am- 
bitiously to  cover  all  [)receding  events,  from  traditional 
times  In  Saavedra's  simple  flow  runs  the  Coiirjai.^la 
ile  Xalisco,  by  the  Dominican  Parra.  Early  Zapotec 
history  received  con.memoration  in  crude  quatrains  at 
the  hand  of  a  Zapotec  cacique  named  Antonio  Lopi  z.  ' 

Into  shnilar  neglect,  though  published  at  Alcata, 
1610,  fell  the  Hifitoria  de  la  Nmva-Mexko  by  Gaspai- 
Villagrd,  one  of  the  participants  in  the  conquest  of 
that  rei^ion.  The  book  is  very  rare,  and  has  lain  for- 
gotten by  students  from  the  apparent  absence  of  his- 
toric material  in  such  metric  form,  while  the  public  in 
general  felt  no  desire  to  accord  favor  to  simple  verse 
so  utterly  cast  into  the  shade  by  the  then  rising  sclionl 
of  grandiloquence.  In  accordance  with  my  system  of 
sifting  every  class  of  wisdom,  I  examined  the  work,  and 
was  gladly  surprised  to  find  it  exceedingly  comprelien- 
sive,and  covering  many  a  gap  in  New  Mexican  history 
for  which  no  records  are  extant.  The  homeliness  of 
the  thirty-four  cantos,  in  blank-verse,  with  little  at- 
tempt at  confusing  ornamentation,  and  witl.  the  occa- 
sional interpolation  of  official  documents  in  [)r()se,  as- 
sists to  restore  it  to  the  proper  status  of  a  chronicle. 
which,  since  the  discovery  of  its  merits,  has  been  gain- 
ing wider  appreciation. 

Among  descriptive  poems  must  be  mentioned  flr<ni- 
deza  de  Mexico,  by  Bishop  Balbueiia,  whose  fame  as  a 
poet  shines  brightly  in  his  epic,  AY  Bernardo,  and  his 
pastoral  romance,  «S'/V//o  del  Oro,  both  amcmg  the  finest 
of  their  class  in  the  S))anish  language.  While  born 
on  the  peninsula,  and  living  chiefly  in  the  West  Tii- 
<lies,  he  was  educated  at  Mexico,  and  there  canird 
ott'a  prize  for  i)oetry  in  1585.  The  Grande-jt  has  the 
additional  inti-rest  for  my  purpose  of  not  only  cmi- 
cerning  this  country,  whose  capital  it  describes,  its  siti . 
buildings  and  institutions,  but  in  wielding  a  eeit.iiii 
influence  on  colonial  writers.     It  is  in  endacasvlhi'ic 


THE  GUADAT.UPK   MIRACLE. 


521 


tiorcets,  divided  into  eiglit  cliapters,  and  is  full  of  at- 
tractive lines  with  many  striking  motapliors.'" 

Besides  the  conquest  there  were  two  subjects  which 
allured  the  most  and)itious  poets,  the  sacred  passion 
and  the  Guadalupe  miracle.  The  latter  concerns  the 
apparition  in  1531,  to  a  hmuble  Indian,  of  the  virgin, 
who  leaves  to  him  her  full  length  portrait  miracu- 
lously impressed  on  his  rude  mantle.  This  is  dv- 
posited  at  (iuadalupe  and  becomes  the  object  of 
veneration  throughout  the  country.  Voluminous 
treatises  have  been  written  in  defence  of  the  mii-acle, 
and  verses  iimumerable  in  honor  thereof,  several  of 
the  latter  aiming  at  epic  completeness.  Sigilenza,  the 
philosoplier,  n)adeanattempt  inliis  I'rihxircrd  Tittlkiiia, 
which  contains  several  })oetic  flashes,  but  insufficient 
to  redeem  it  from  the  mass  of  puerilities,  metonymy, 
and  liy])erbolc.  He  also  wrote  a  poem  in  honor  of 
Saint  Francis  Xavier,  and  Poa^ias  S(i;jr(ulait.  Affecta- 
tion are  their  chief  defect,  but  this  was  the  prevalent 
evil  of  his  time,  as  recognized  by  the  award  of  a  first 
iiiize  from  the  universitv  for  a  most  unintelligible 
song  of  his.  La  Ocfara  Manivilla,  i\[exico  17"J1),  bv 
Fiancisco  de  Castro  of  Madrid, is  still  further  marred 
hy  rhaj  sodic  mysticism  and  strained  classic  simih  s. 
In  like  oiidva  riiixi  nieasui'e  is  AV  Triiiiifo  d<l  Slloicio 
of  Jose[)h  Agustin  de  Castro,  of  Valladolid,  relating 
to  the  martyrdom  of  San  Juan  Neponmceno,  whi-rein 
pliantastie  figures  re[>]ace  the  classic  clement.  A 
later  attempt  to  ])ortray  the  feelings  and  meditations 
of  a  convert  shows  loss  artificiality,  and  a(cords  woll 
witli  the  chastening  of  spirit  he  is  supposed  to  have 
undergone.'"* 

This  class  of  i»ot'trv,  including  moral  exh<»rtations, 
is  exceedingly  Imlky,  as  may  be  undeistood  from  the 
influences  of  the  cliureh  and  the  predilection  of  its 
ii  I  nibers,  who  outmunbered  all  others  in  th»'  litei-ary 
fi'  Id.  The  nature'  of  the  pieces  an<l  the  circumscribed 
language  and  tone  of  the  authors,  from  duty,  bent,  or 


lis, 


022 


LITERATURE  OF  COLONIAL  MEXICO, 


,Mil 


Ml  ,. 


reverence,  operated  against  any  marked  excellence. 
A  not  uncommon  performance  with  the  friars  was  to 
reduce  tlie  rulos  of  their  orders  into  prolific  verso,  as 
did  Pardo  for  the  Franciscans. 

Among  those  who  have  sung  tlie  passion  I  will  in- 
stance three  representatives  in  their  respective  niethnd 
of  treatment,  iu'st  the  Jesuit,  Carnuro,  who  givis 
a  mei'e  rhymed  descri|)tion,  spiritless  and  witli  olh  u 
absurd  coloring.  Second  the  presbyter,  Friar,  de- 
votes one  thousand  octaves  to  the  subject  in  Dcsmiso 
y  Humillacion  de  Dlot^,  Mexico  170*J,  beginning  with 
the  causes  in  the  fall  of  Adam  and  ending  with  tho 
resurrection.  The  writer  seems  in)pressed  by  tlie 
incidents  before  him  and  imparts  this  feeling  in  the 
simple  earnestness  of  his  strain,  but  without  rising  to 
tlie  grandeur  of  the  theme.^'  The  third,  Luis  An- 
tonio de  Oviedo  Herrera  y  Tlueda,  shows  himself  in 
his  Poema  Sacra  de  la  raskm  far  superior.  He  opens 
with  dramatic  tact  at  the  arrest  of  Christ  in  the 
garden  of  Gethsemane,  and  closes  with  the  catas- 
trophic phenomena  attending  liis  death,  illuminating 
the  subjects  with  frequent  pleasing  imagery  niarnd 
by  little  extravagance.  In  accordance  with  the  term 
romance  applied  to  his  Poana  he  uses  the  ndoiidllld 
measure,  with  asuuatdcs,  while  the  others  write  in 
ottava,  rima.  The  seven  parts  of  the  i)oem  are  called 
cstaciones.  The  author  is  a  descendant  of  the  Oviedo 
who  achieved  for  himself  the  title  of  Conde  de  la 
Granja,  and  st>ttled  in  Peru.  Pofcrring  to  tlio 
approach  of  the  posse  intent  on  arresting  Christ,  lie 
says: 


Enti'o  cl  horror  <lc  la  noclio 
Eiiilmelt.i,  aliiiltiiiulo  sonihras, 


Bii  111.13  cuerpo  &  sus  liornm' 
Solo  c:l  silencio  se  oye. 


And  alludiniT  to  the  death  scene ; 


Aqui  rasgiindo  i-l  cielo 
Y  las  soinliras  &  girones, 


A1iri()  los  ojos  f\  dill 

Por  ver  al  Sol  quo  se  poiio 


Above  any  of  these  as  a  writer  of  sacred  vi  r>e 
ranks Fernan Gonzalez  Eselava,  whose  Cohquio^^  fsi'in. 
fnal('>i,Cancioncs  Divhias,  and  Pocsias  were  published  at 


HAPPY   INHERITANCE. 


628 


Mexico  in  1610,  after  his  death.  They  exhibit  a  rare 
(•<»ml)inati(m  of  pure  diction,  good  versitication,  and 
natural  grace,  yet  have  from  tliis  very  reason  l>een 
pushed  aside  by  the  more  boml)astic  apptals  of  less 
;il)lo  pons.  The  Tcra^f^kula,  sire  lh'(%s/a  a  Jct<i(,  by  friar 
Juan  Valencia,  a  Mexican  of  a  few  decades  later, 
serves  maiidy  to  exhibit  his  skill  in  Latin  hexameters. 
The  contemporary  Jesuit,  M.  Castro\erde,  excelled  in 
sucli  verse.  Bishop  IJi-za  y  UUoa  of  Huexotcingo 
received  a  premium  from  the  university  for  his 
Si)anish  octaves;  F.  Cochero  Carrcno's  Dcsaf/rario  dc 
^'/•/.sYo  acliieved  a  certain  celebrity.  The  nun  Teresa 
do  Cristo  belongs  to  this  period. 

Among  the  mass  of  shorter  poems,  odes,  sonnets, 
elegies,  satires,  and  epigrams,  we  find  by  far  tlie  haj)- 
|)iost  specimens,  as  may  be  supposed,  from  the  impul- 
sive but  unsustained  spirit  of  the  i)eople,  an<l  from  tlie 
iiiingling  of  gay  etfusiveness  and  lofty  gallantry  in- 
herited from  S[)ain,  with  the  sad  yet  sly  traits  of  the 
aljorigines.  Church  festivals,  public  inaugurations, 
celebrations  connected  with  the  roval  familv  oriirom- 
ineiit  citizens,  and  reuni(jns,  gave  occasion  for  display 
in  this  field  which  frequently  assumed  the  form  of 
tontosts.  Tlie  nund)er  of  i)artici})ants  and  hiterestcd 
auditors  afforded  ready  opportunity  for  reproducing 
the  difterent  pieces  in  |»rlnt,  prefaced  as  usual  with  a 
imniber  of  similar  verses  by  critics,  or  by  the  admi- 
rers of  the  contestants.  They  are  generally  weighted 
\vlth  classic  lore,  strained  mcta[)hor  and  gran(lilo(|uent 
nothings,  the  main  effort  being  evidentl}'  to  exhibit 
ii-Virnin'j:  and  express  eulo<j:v.  Thev  enibract^  all  im- 
agniable  forms  of  verses,  with  acrostics  of  the  most 
intricate  pattern.  In  such  representative  volumes  as 
'  W///o,  Ijcfrdi^,  on  the  oecasion  of  taking  the  oath  to 
liuis  Fernando  I.  Carlos  TfL,  Real  Proc:  Rndrifimz, 
■  I'lljii.'^fo  Thnn.;  Sarin,  Dr.^cript.,  at  a  church  festiv.al,  M-e 
iind  the  participants  range  from  pompons  prr-lati'S  to 
humble  friars,  from  staid  professors  to  youthful  jiupils. 


I 


I' 


S24 


LlTEUATUllE  OF  COLONIAL   MEXICO. 


Special  mention  must  bo  accorded  to  Matias  Boca- 
negra,  whose  Cancbni  a  la  vista  dc  uu  desnujano  be- 
came very  popular  and  was  widely  adopted  as  a  modt  1 
during  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries,  al- 
though by  no  means  finislied  in  form. 

A  contemporary  elegy  by  Zapata  on  the  deatli  of 
the  brothers  Avila  is  noticeable  for  niany  etfeetive 
lines.  The  sword  which  brings  them  death  he  de- 
picts as : 


Uiiavivora  de  lumbro 
L'lHi  VL'iicrio  (Ic  Contt'llas 
La  rcgiipii  del  aire  vihro, 


Porque  S  RU!<  impetus  muera, 
Siiplii)  el  Uaiito  ill!  los  ojos 
El  defectd  de  la  leiigua. 


Juan  de  (xaona,  a  Franciscan  friar,  who  wrote  sev- 
eral works  in  Aztec,  Latin,  and  Spanish,  attracted  at- 
tention by  his  l\t('das  (\istrllanas  en  alaJ>aiiza  de  la 
\irg(f)i.  Francisco  Placido,  an  Aztec  noble,  wrote 
some  Cdnllcoa  which  Chimalpain  ])reserved.  E.  Sa- 
lazar  de  Alarcon,  a  native  of  Madrid,  who  reside  1 
manv  vears  in  Guatemala  and  Mexico  as  oidor,  aiid 
was  made  a  councillor  of  tlie  Indies  in  1001,  left  a 
higlily  praised  Sllva  dc  Pocst'a;  some  of  his  letters  arc 
said  to  be  masterpieces.  Tlie  freer  development  of 
lyrics  during  the  following  century  will  render  a  later 
consideration  more  satisfact*»ry. 

JMention  nmst  be  made  of  (»ne  whose  varied  power 
and  productions  have  procured  for  her  a  recognition 
far  above  anv  other  trulv  national  i)oet  of  colonial 
th)ics.  This  is  Juana  Inez  dc  la  Cruz,  to  whom  even 
contemporari(!S  of  the  peninsula  gave  the  extravagant 
appellation  of  tenth  muse,  l^icheco  compares  her  te 
Camoens,  and  Feijoo  lauds  her  critical  and  pliile- 
sophic  mind.  She  was  truly  a  prodigy.  As  a  cliild 
her  thouglits  seemed  to  find  a[)propriate  utterance  in 
verse  alone,  and  she  became  the  wonder  of  the  \  iceie- 
gal  court.  Her  sylph-like  beauty  also  drew  admi- 
rers and  fortune  smiled  bri<xlitlv.  Suddenlv  a  chanec 
came  over  her.  Imbued  with  sensitiveness  and  ex- 
alted imagination,  she  felt  keenly  the  slight  thrown 
upon  her  Creole  caste  ;  she  felt  the  want  of  symjiatli}-. 


JUAN  A  INICZ  I)E  LA  TRUZ. 


S23 


the  failure  to  be  understood.  Cliiitjing  more  tluan 
ever  to  lier  beloved  books,  she  sought  at  the  early 
a<4e  of  seventeen  tlie  seclusion  of  the  convent,  aban- 
doning the  future  opened  to  her  in  socii'ty  as  lady  of 
li'inor,  to  devote  herself  to  letters.  A  deep  religious 
feeling  can  hardly  have  been  the  chief  prompter,  as 
some  (leclare  ;  there  was  something  more,  for  pretended 
]i;i])piness  and  quiet  suffering  are  frequently  revealed 
in  her  lines.  Unde-niable  is  the  bigoted  interference 
(if  religious  advisers,  wlio  finally  persuaded  her  to 
abandon  even  books  and  writing  for  ascetic  penance. 
Freed  from  worldly  distractions  at  least,  she  yiehlcd 
to  the  bent  of  her  min<l,  and  ])oured  forth  a  iirolific 
tlow,  chiefly  of  lyrics,  wliich  roused  deserved  a<hnira- 
tiou  from  tlieir  delicate  tone,  their  varied  imagerv,  and 
tlielr  smooth  versification.  The  religious  sentiment 
predominates,  relieved  by  many  a  h)fty  allegory,  but 
n»up]ed  also  with  a  mystic  speculation  that  smacks  of 
fi)i(H'd  patristic  inculcation,  and  is  often  of  questionable 
taste;  yet  the  light  emotions  are  also  touched,  .and 
with  charmintj  naivete  in  the  love  sonnets.  The  ele- 
giac  tone  is  frequent,  indicative,  perhaps,  of  a  wounded 
lit^ait,  and  certainly  of  her  treatment  within  the 
( luister  and  by  the  world. 

Si  al  armyo  parlero  A  I'liantas  mira  iiitima  sii  cuidailo, 

Vcs  j^alau  ile  las  Hures  cii  el  prailo,     Kii  su  con-icT'te  mi  dnlor  to  avisa, 
(,iiu.-  ainaiitc  y  lisougcro  Que  a  costaile  nii  Uautu,  tieuu  risa. 

T!iis  is,  indeed,  a  smile  amid  tears. 


AI  iluloc  iinan  de  sii  vnz 
(^•uisieraii  iior  asistirla, 
I'iniiamiMito  ser  el   Movil, 
Kl  S(.(I  ser  Eatrella  tixa. 


Tan  liella,  sol  ire  caiiora, 
Que  el  amor  dudnso  adinira 
Si  se  delieii   sus  liarpulii'.-i 
A  su.s  eeo.s  (j  U  su  vista. 


No  duiiliquos  las  annas, 

Bella  lioinieida. 
Que  esta  oeiosa  la  luuerte 

Doude  no  ay  vida. 


Slie  can  also  sing  in  a  merry  strain.  Her  eclogues 
are  pervaded  by  a  bantering  vein,  ami  her  ovillcjos  and 
ntlier  jocose  pieces  vie  witli  the  sonnets  and  romances 
fi'i  the  foremost  place.     There   is  a  number  of  satiri- 


{j-JG 


LTTERATUUE  OF  COLONIAL  MEXICO. 


cal  compositions,  and  several  decimas  of  true  epiorrain- 
niatii'  form.  She  displays,  moreover,  a  profoundly 
critical  mind.  Before  entering  the  convent  she  astoii- 
islied  a  committee  of  learned  men  with  the  variity 
and  depth  of  iier  attainments. 

Juana  also  wrote  several  dramatic  pieces,  notably 
two  antos,  or  religious  allegories,  and  two  comedies, 
Amor  AS  m(i.'<  iMhi/n'nfo  and  Los  Kntpcuos  <Jf,  una  ('<isii, 
preceded  and  interspersed  with  tlic  customary  Inas, 
Iclrax,  mi/nrtc^,  and  sardos,  or  dialogues,  farces,  and 
songs.  The  last-named  i)iece,  the  only  one  tliat  lias 
received  much  attention,  embraces  Mexican  life,  and 
has  some  tender  love  scenes,  with  occasional  stirring 
verses;  yet  it  is  cold  and  wearisome  on  the  whole, 
and  stamped  by  the  defects  of  the  times. 

Imitations  of  such  men  as  Seneca  and  Calderon  are 
only  too  apparent,  but  she  allowed  herself,  above  all, 
to  bo  influenced  by  tlie  cultismo  spirit,  with  its  mox- 
cusaljle  mannerism  and  trivialities,  and  the  religious 
surrounding  proved  another  restraint  on  her  naturally 
graceful  flow,  while  strength  and  originality  flag  in 
the  more  prolonged  eff'orts.  It  was  her  misfortune  to 
live  in  the  period  of  dramatic  decaden(;e  in  Spain,  and 
during  the  unfolding  of  corrupt  Gongorism,  ai!  '  to  lie 
permeated  by  the  levelling  influences  of  both,  rience 
it  is  that  her  works  gradually  passed  into  obli\ion, 
notwithstandhig  their  evident  mark  of  genius,  tin  ir 
rich  form,  and  grand  symbolism.  Mexicans  did  iii»t 
appreciate  the  Nun  of  Mexico  so  much  as  the  penin- 
sular readers,  with  all  their  penchant  for  national  pri- 
sonages.  They  were  too  deeply  engrossed  with 
transatlantic  niodels  to  give  due  consideration  to  hu  al 
talent.^" 


The  drama  begins  in  Mexico  with  the  representation 
of  antos,  religious  or  allegoric  pieces,  which  owe  tlioir 
derivation  from  the  mystery  or  passion  plays  int 
duced  from  Italy  into  Spain,  there  to  acquire  a 
tinctive  elaboration  and  stamp,  under  the  ditter'  nt 


I'd- 

(lis- 


THE  DRAMA. 


5-27 


iiKtliods  of  Vicente,  Lope,  and  Caldoron.  Tlioy  were 
(iiily  brouglit  forward  as  an  attractive  nu-diuni  for 
|iionu)tiiig  conversion  among  tlie  aborigines,  and  pro- 
duced partly  in  tlie  cliurclics,  but  cliicHy  in  tlie  open 
air.  Friars  adapted  or  composed  tlie  pi(!ces,  sonie- 
tiiius  translating  them  into  the  vernacular,  while  the 
111 Dphytcs  were  trained  in  the  roles.  The  subjo^cts 
wi'ic  chiefly  biblical,  the  adoration  of  the  magi  being 
a  favorite,  the  Indians  applying  to  themselves  the 
divine  suimnons herein  indicated  to  pagans.  Allegoric 
and  com[)licated  composition  found  more  favor  in  the 
cities,  for  edification  of  the  white  classes.  Here  also 
tlic  productions  were  more  a[)t  to  be  enlivened  with 
comical  passages.  In  course  of  time,  indeed,  they 
wi'i-e  so  burdened  with  this  and  otlier  abuse  as  to 
liasteji  the  suppression  and  decline  of  the  irufns,  as  in 
Eu)()[»e.  Nevertheless,  they  still  survive  in  remote 
country  districts. 

Tlie  contemporary  has,  eulogistic  declamations  by 
one  or  more  dramatic  persons,  largely  used  as  pro- 
logues, survived  somewhat  longer  as  independe^nt 
]*ieces  for  production  at  different  public  festivals,  as 
the  arrival  of  viceroys  and  prelates,  installations,  and 
the  like. 

The  first  prominent  local  writer  of  autos  and  loas 
was  Fernan  Gonzalez  Esclava,  the  Antlalusian  pres- 
Intor,  whose  religious  poems  rank  so  high  in  Mexico. 
His  Colnqnios  ei<i>iritn<tlcs,  issued  there  in  IGIO,  and 
lately  rediscovered  and  re])rinted  bv  Icazbalceta,  con- 
sist  chiefly  of  allegories  with  moral  and  theological 
figures.  In  diction  they  partake  of  the  gootl  <jualities 
ot'liis  sacred  verse,  but  their  dramatic  aspect  indicates 
so  littl(!  of  the  elegance  and  vivacity  of  l^ope,  or  of 
tlie  lofty  thoughts  and  rich  form  of  Caldi-ron,  as  to 
lower  them  to  a  secondary  ])osition  on  the  peninsula, 
yet  one  of  cons[>icuous  merit  in  X(>w  Spain. 

Th(>  drifting  of  the  auto  into  farce,  was  a  natural 
response  to  the  light-hearted  disposition  of  the  Creoles, 
if  not  to  the   staid     bent  of  the  Indians.     Comedv 


n3'i 


w 


528 


LITEIIATURK  OF  COLONIAL  MEXICO. 


ranked  foremost  amoiiuf  Spanish  Anioricans,  as  may 
be  judiifcd  from  the  cliaractur  of  the  dramatic  lights 
<tf  llKuia.  Their  most  popular  pieces  were  of  tliecaja 
y  espada  class,  cloak  and  sword,  signifyiui,^  a  tlitinf 
on  love  and  jealousy,  productions  marked  by  com|ili- 
catcd  and  ingenious  plots,  piquant  [>ortrayals  lunl 
strikinjj^  situations,  with  alternating  passion,  sannsin, 
and  caricature,  impertinent  inuendocs  and  stron.; 
double  entente.  The  most  conspicuous  features  arc  a 
gallantry  and  intrigue  which  stretch  the  line  of  deli- 
cacy far  bevond  northern  ideas. 

So  little  were  these  vagaries  heeded  that  even  a 
devout  soul  like  Juana  de  la  Cruz  employed  her  pen 
in  delineating  intrigues;  yet  the  restraints  of  her 
training  and  surroun<lings  are  evident  in  defective 
dramatic  taste  and  Hugging  sj)irit.  These  inequalities 
apply  also  to  a  diction  at  times  rich  and  even  elegant, 
but  more  frequently  marred  by  puerilities  and  verbose 
bombast,  which  hideed  preponderate  to  such  exti  iit 
as  to  stamp  the  productions  as  hojH'lessly  dull.  TIm 
same  may  be  said  of  the  specimens  by  other  local 
jjlavwrights  of  the  period,  as  Eusebio  ^^■la,  the  mo^-t 
prolific  dramatist  of  the  seventeenth  century,  who  left 
adozen  comeilies  in  manuscript ;  Juan  Arriola  of  Guan- 
ajuato, who  transmitted  one  production  in  print;  tin 
promising  Salazar  v  Torres:  and  Francisco  S(»ria.  All 
these  are  pronounced  imitators  of  Spanish  model,  lut 
the  last,  while  burdened  chiefly  with  the  extrava- 
gances of  Calderon,  rises  nevertheless  above  the  otliei  s 
in  merit  and  ap[)reciation," 

All  these  are  eclipsed  by  Ruiz  de  Alarcon,  wli" 
was  by  birth  and  education  a  Creole,  although  In 
wrote  in  Spain,  and  there  achieved  for  himself  a  place 
amouij  her  ij;reat  dramatists.  Some  of  his  i)ieces  wero 
at  first  ascribed  to  his  foremost  rivals,  and  Corneille, 
among  other  borrowers,  derived,  with  glowing  acknowl- 
edgment, his  Menieur,  from  the  Verdad  ^S(^.'<pev}|(ml  et 
Alarcon.  This,  7hdo  es  Ventura,  and  other  cometlies, 
written  chiefly  in  redondilla  measure,  brought  lilni 


el  lut 


Ugll    111' 


ALARCOX    V    MKNDOZA. 


r)i.".) 


prninincntly  into  not'uo  about  IG-Jl,  althouij;li  lio  ap- 
|i(«,ifs  to  luivo  tried  liis  ptii  fully  twenty  years  before. 
\\y  lOllt  nearly  thirty  pieei'S  had  aiipcarod,  ineludiiii^ 
llie  eelehrated  Kjvincn  dc  Mari'los.  'j'lieir  charactor- 
jstic  fi-aturo  is  Alarcon'sadlu^sion  to  the  I^atin  models, 
and  from  Terence  he  lias  above  all  imbibed  the  8[)irit 
wliich  was  to  !L^uid(!  him,  while  the  Italian  method  ha.s 
not  failed  to  leave  its  impress.  Nevertheless  lie  stands 
forward  as  one  of  th(!  most  oriijfinal  and  varied  writers, 
tlioui^h  hss  jtrolitio  an<l  imaijjinative.  His  dietion  is 
more  formal  and  his  versification  purer  than  Lope  de 
\  ('Uja's ;  indeed,  he  ranks  rather  as  a  classic  who  strove 
to  infuso  not  oidy  a  more  correct  style,  but  a  healthier 
III  "ul  tt)no  into  comedy,  which  was  still  entan^^lcd  in 
a  licentiousness  from  which  the  church  was  seekin*; 
to  rescue  it.  His  effort  was  to  brinij  into  prominence; 
nohlo  qualities,  and  expose  the  evil  of  vic(>,  rather 
tliuii  to  draw  from  the  sources  of  chivalric  romance,  and 
otlset  it  with  broad  buftbonery.  These  admirable 
features  were  too  strongly  drawn  for  his  a,!j;e,  and  thus 
lie  filled  to  attain  that  popularity  while  livinii^  which 
1  IS  sii  CO  been  enthusiastically  accorded  him  in  both 
lioiu.sphercsbya  posterity  of  more  elevated  taste.  jNIcx- 
ifo  lias  ado[)ted  him  as  father  of  her  dramatic  litera- 


Hlfi' 


Juan  Ruiz  de  Alarcon  y  Mendoza  came  of  famous 
(li'scent,  the  last  name  denoting  a  conni'ction  with 
Viceroy  Mendoza.  He  was  born  about  1580,  not  as 
<j;<-'nerally  supposed  at  Tasco,  where  his  father  owmd 
niiiics,  but  at  Mexico.  After  graduating  at  the  uni- 
vtrsity  of  this  city,  he  perfected  his  studit  s  at  Sala- 
uiuica  during  the  opening  years  of  the  following  cen- 
tury, and  then  adopted  the  legal  profession,  returning 
iu  1G58  to  Mexico  to  exercise  it,  and  obtained  the 
jKisition  of  acting  corregidor  of  the  capital.  A  few 
years  later  he  went  again  to  Spain  as  ofHce-hunter, 
and  after  many  struggles  with  adversity,  aggravated 
I'v  a  hunchback  deformity,  he  secured  a  post  as  rela- 
t'T  in  the   India  council  which  he  held  for  some  13 

Essays  ani>  Mis(f.m,any     84 


ii  I^H 

1  mi 

m  "mi 

imf'^lH': 

" '  iH^^nHi  'J 

ih'\\  lll^H^ 

MIOh      ^l^^^^^^^^Bln 

nil  ^^^^HH 

S30 


LITEIIATURE   OF  COLONIAL   MEXICO. 


I.    : 


years,  till  his  death  in  1039.  In  1599,  (lurin*j^  tlu 
openinjv  studies  at  Salamanca,  ho  appears  to  ha\i' 
made  the  fii'st  attempts  in  a  career  which  was  to 
i)rinij^  liim  surely  thouuh  slowlv  to  fame.'" 

Tlu!  neuflect  of  Alareon  and  the  ])aucity  of  dramatic 
Avriters  in  New  Spain,  and  the  existence  before  I7'.»i» 
of  oidy  one  theatre  in  the  country  worthy  tlie  ii.iiiif, 
leave  the  impression  that  the  stai^e  was  little  appir 
ciated.  The  indications  arc  not  ([uite  relial>lt\  how- 
ever, for  dramatic  performances,  sacred  and  profane, 
were  frequently  j^iven  at  }ml)lic  festivals  and  jn'ivato 
entertainments,  in  convents  and  private  mansi<»iis, 
notably  at  the  palace,  where  the  viceroy  souu'lit  to 
encourao;e  native  tah'iit  bv  atteiuHnij  presentations. 
These  were  often  mere  loas,  which  failed  to  si^e  juint, 
while  the  pieces  j:i;enerally  oifered  to  the  public  came 
from  Si)ain,  as  did  the  more  appreciated  actors/' 
Comedies  by  Lope  do  Ve^a  and  others  were  e\'  n 
translated  into  native  touL^ues. 

The  shjjjht  esteem  accorded  to  home  productions, 
even  by  those  who  ranked  with  the  crcole  party,  was 
due  greatly  to  the  authors  themselves,  who  dn-w  in- 
spiration, method,  and  even  subjects  from  Spain, 
thus  U[)holding  her  too  exclusively  to  the  colonirs  ns 
the  model  which  she  still  in  a  great  measure  itiiiains. 
Even  Alareon  found  tardy  a}t[)reciation  at  lionie  only 
after  the  peninsula  liad  given  her  ai)proval,  and  I-a 
Cruz  rose  far  higher  there  than  among  her  own  peopl' . 
The  all-influential  class  of  oflieials  also  turned  pul'lic 
sentiment  with  tiicir  disdainful  affectation  away  tVoiii 
the  less  esteemed  Creoles,  and  the  clergy  exert(  il  a 
greater  control  here  in  directing  preference  to  clio-ru 
literature  from  the  mother  countrv,  and  in  n'strittiii'' 
local  talent  hi  scope  and  treatment.  Neverthehss  tlio 
new  direction  and  imjmlse  imjiarted  fr(»m  Frame, 
came  to  be  felt  in  the  colonies  toward  the  end  of  the 
last  ccMitury.  As  in  Spain,  it  i)roduced  no  imnie<liato 
brilliant  result  in  literature,  although  the  first  ( tl'crt 
was  less  depressing;  l)ut  by  pointing  to  the  neci-^^ity 


:;:,i.*; 


NOTES. 


6S1 


for  deeper  and  more  varud  studies,  csporially  of 
classics,  it  laid  the  foundation  for  a  hi*]jher  develop- 
1111  nt.  This  is  indicated  in  the  efforts  of  Abad,  CMa- 
vijj;ero,  Alegre,  and  other  exiled  Jesuits,  and  more 
strikiuL^ly  by  Jose  llafael  Larranaga,  who  produced 
the  first  complete  translation  of  Virgil's  work  into 
Spanish  heroic  verse.  It  is  marked  by  an  exactitude 
and  ck)S0  adherence  to  the  s})irit  and  form  of  the 
original  that  is  lacking  in  the  more  elegant  partial 
versions  of  Friar  Luis  de  Leon  and  Hernandez  do 
Velasco,  and  gives  ]\Iexico  the  greater  reason  to  be 
proud  of  so  influential  a  guide  during  the  dawn  of 
revival" 


'  Tlicclironiclors agree  that  the  press  came  under  tlic  .auspices  of  Mcndnza, 


llisf.  M,j: 


S78,    thin   series,  Imt   tlicy   diliVr  alioiit   tlic   ;  car.   ( 


mll/illc/ 


h.ivilii,  Tiiitro  E'ti.i.,  i.  'JI$,  giving;  it  as  l.");!'-',  fcvr  instanct'.  'I'lii;  iiainc  of 
tin:  ipiiiitir  was  pr(ilial)ly  I'anli,  wliiiii  KciMine  I'ahln.s-  thv  phiral  <il'  I'ml.) 
-  'ly  traiislalidii.     Croiiiliorgcr  is  also  printed  ('riiMd>eri;er  and  Kioiid'erjier, 


l>iit   ■was 


>)ial>Iy 


written   Kr(iiil)er>ier 


niiiiiMln'rjjter  in  (iernian.     lli 
("mnilierL'tr,  wlm  tiaiire- 


"•^' 


line  <if  Valilos  due'*  not 


til- 


^li/ii- 


w:n  preceded  in  the  liusiness  at  Seville  hy  .iaci 
there  m  ir>II,  and  may  have  lieen  liis  fatiier.  Tl 
apiiear  in  the  colophon  till  l.")4('>;  it  seems  eight  years  latei 
ri  )if.<  ih  I  Ai'Oilii.ijiiKlii,  he  styles  himself  '  primer  ini)iresor  «n  est  a.  .  .cindad  de 
Mexico,' a  term  vhioh  has  al--o  heeii  interpreteil  foremost  or  leading,  for  a 
riv.'l  ]printer  existed  ahout  tliit  time  in  the  person  of  Antonio  Kspinosa. 
'll/is  late  apjiearanee  of  I'aMos,  together  with  the  faet  that  <  rondieiger 
aluiie  ligures  during  the  lirst  years  as  printer,  has  led  to  a  very  general  In  luf 
tliil  the  latter  actually  had  charge  of  the  press;  hut  the  eolopiion  of  a  liook 
j'liiited  at  Seville  in  li">4l  alludes  to  him  as  lately  deciased,  and  Ica/liaheta, 
iho  has  given  this  sidiject  a  share  of  his  scholarly  attent  ion,  rightly  assumes 


that  the  owner  of  a  tlourishing  1i 

self  to  a  remote  corner  of  the  eartli  with  its  jietty  prospicts 


ss  at  Seville  vould   liardh 
It 


that 


a  Son  ot  Jiia  may  liavc  gone 


he  t.referahle  tl 

1'; 


yl.^ 


h\it  1 


o  a<'cc 


it  tl 


since  tins  is  a  mere,'  conje 


de  h 
I" 


■lure   it  will 


le  stalemen 


t  of  tv 


wo  chroinelers   wlio  i 


.lechi 


.I/..r.  ri4'J 


primer  imjiri'sor  i|ue  a  e>ta  tierra  vino.'  Pari/'i  fmlillit.  /lisf.  t'lnni. 


'Kl 


irnner  Jmiiresor 


fue   ]i 


I'ahh 


J)tiril,t,  Tiiilr 


/.'■/■>■.,  i.  i>a;  M<<liwi,    (7,r..>i.   S.  J>i'u<\   •'y-i;  < 


i; 


<;;•,  p.  V. 


Taddla  not  only  lived  near  the  time  in  (piestioii,  h\it  lie  had  every  facility 


fnrk 


ig.     In  ]'\V2  tiie   viceroy  granted    to  tlie   widow  and   ehihlieii   of 


roiiiherger  the  right  to  continue  the  iirinting  and  iinjiortation  of  hooks  for 

'llu'  grant  ajiinars  to  have 
■'taMi>limeiit. 


tell  years,    pittas,  in   Cnrtitu  i/f   linUits,  ~4^{\ 
heeii  exclusive,  and  I'ahlos  mu>t  thenfore  lia\  e  hoiight  their 
'  I'strada  is  called  '  liijo  legitinio  di  1  ^'irrey,'  hy  I'V 


rnaiiilci',  uoi  sn 


died  III  \'~,',>.   Jittvilii  PitiliUii;  ili<t.  t'lmd.,  Mi:f.,  M\\.      '1  his  author  gives  sev 
iiiiins  to  the  life  of  Estrada,  who  joined  the  |)oniinicaiis  in  I.' 


till"  how  neatly  and  (piiekly  he  made  the  traiisjat 
"idy  a  few  copies  were  printeii   for  Use  among  tl 


It 


I'l 


and 
that 
le  novices,  vho  soon  de- 
riie  title  and  statement  are  given  in  (•'nnzuliz  /hn-i/n.  loc.  cit., 
altlioiiuh  with  the  dnte  MroiiLdy  jihicol  as  l,"i;!'_',  and  the  f.icis  are  coiiliinied 
hy  ririi'iiKh'/,  ///>y.  J.''-I>.i..  I'J-,  who  writes  l."i.'{."i,  hy  I'ailiUa  and  other  cred- 
iulilu  (.hruuiclcrs.     fcicc  alao /'«««,  rinyc*',  MS.,  73, 


d  the 


i  '1 

m 


LITERATURE  OF  COLONIAL  MEXICO. 


y<  ':  , 


:   ':' ' 


*The  Dnetrim  of  1539  is  described  by  the  editors  of  Cartas  de  Indiait,  786- 
7.  Icazbalceta  acquired  notice  of  the  Manual.  Gonzalez  D&vila  states  titat 
the  firdt  catechism  in  Aztec  was  written  by  the  Dominican  Juan  Ramiro/, 
later  bishop  of  Guatemala,  and  printed  in  1537.  Teatro  Edes.,  i.  7,  but  tliis  of 
omirse  cannot  be  accepted  with  any  confidence.  Mendieta  alludes  to  an  Aztec 
Vdcabulary  by  Jimenez,  one  of  the  first  Franciscan  apostles,  as  the  first  uf 
thu  kind  although  not  printed.  He  seems  to  credit  Xfotolinia  with  the  fir.<t 
printed  DiKtrina  'la  cual  anda  impresa.'  Ribas  and  Cianeros,  also  of  tliu 
twelve,  wrote  various  pieces.  Jlist.  Ecles.,  550.  THhomaa,  Hist.  Printimj,  i.  V.)l, 
leaves  the  impression  that  Pwja,  Cediilario,  of  15G3,  and  Molina,  Vocahularht, 
1571,  were  probably  the  first  productions  of  the  Mexican  press.  In  my 
lil>rary  are  also  earlier  specimens.  Iho  British  museum  not  long  ago  uata- 
liigiied  the  Doctrimi  of  Cordoba,  1544,  as  the  first  book.  Such  was  the  igno- 
rance on  this  point  until  lately.  North  of  Mexico  the  first  book  appeariil 
only  a  century  later,  in  the  Whole  Booke  of  Psalmea,  issued  at  Cambridgis 
iu  1640,  tlie  year  after  the  press  was  introduced. 

♦Eguiara,  Bi}),  Mex.,  221,  adds:  Onlimttiones  kijumque  collcctiones  ir)4!), 
but  Uarrisse  and  Icazl)alceta  identify  it  with  the  preceding  Spanish  Ortleiiaii 
zas;  Opeixiriwdiciwilia,  Auctore  Francisco  Bravo  (trmimem  is  aasiifned  to  l.")4'.l; 
lint  the  name  of  the  printer,  Ociiartc,  and  the  dedication  to  \  iceroy  Kiiii- 
i{uez,  indicate  that  the  date  is  a  misprint,  not  a  forgery,  and  should  be 
placed  between  1568  and  1580. 

"A  list  of  the  printing  houses  which  figured  at  Mexico  in  the  sixteenth 
century  may  stand  as  Mlows:  Cromberger  1535-44,  Pablos  1542-1)0  or 
151)2,  Antonio  E<pinosa  1.559-73,  Pedro  Ocharte  1563-91,  Pedro  Balli  l.-)71- 
97,  or  later,  Antonio  Ricardos  1577-79,  Mclchor  Ocharte  1599.  The  ilatrj 
are  merely  approximate.  Icazbalceta  gives  additional  valuable  dctaiN. 
Harrisse  upholds  him  in  asserting  that  Ricardos,  an  Italian  like  Pablos,  went 
to  Lima  in  1580,  as  tlie  first  printer  there.  At  Puelila  the  first  book  appiNircil 
iu  1650.  Nouv.  Anmik^  Des  Voy.,  xciii.  42-9,  mentions  other  more  dimhtfiil 
places  and  dates.  Zufliga  y  Ontiveros  owned  the  chief  printing  otllcu  iu 
Mexico  at  the  opening  of  the  present  century.  Entnlln,  xxvi.  350;  mum 
.Uix.,  vi.  23.  Mexicans  early  showed  a  fondness  for  fanciful  type  and  uin- 
btiUishment  as  indicated  by  specimens  on  my  shelves,  letters  in  gold  and  rod 
being  very  frei(uent,  with  floriated  capitals. 

"Orders  came  frequently  for  officials  to  ferret  and  burn  all  obnoxious  lit- 
uratnre,  Ordeiua  de  (foronn,  MS.,  iii.  14,  and  Bishop  Palafox  devoted  even  his 
private  funds  to  buy  up  and  destroy  comedies,  novels,  and  other  works  re- 
garded by  him  as  unhealthy.  "Accion.  .  .bien  digna,"  comments  ('alio. 
Mriu  y  Not.,  40.  Even  the  colonial  authorities  were  mistrasted  in  rosiu!!  t 
of  censorship  by  the  supreme  government.  By  a  law  of  1559,  no  bonk  tnat- 
lug  of  the  Indies  could  be  published  before  it  had  been  examined  liy  flu;  Indii 
Council,  Rarnp.  de,  Ind.,  and  in  the  following  year  came  orders  to  collect  and 
send  to  Spain  all  books  published  without  royal  privilege.  Pwja,  Cnlnliirh, 
210.  Regulations  for  publishing  are  given  in  Montemayor,  Sumario-i,  (if,  i;te. 
In  Oaretade  Mexico  of  1728  and  following  years  there  is  an  adverti.Henimt  nf 
new  books  at  the  end  of  almost  every  monthly  number,  averaging  about  two 
m  each. 

'  Arevalo  stamps  his  Oareta  de  M(^ro  of  Jan.  1728  as  No.  1.  By  the  cii  1 
of  1730  it  formed  .37  numbers,  all  of  which  were  bound,  indexed,  and  dedi- 
cated to  Archbishop  Vizarron  by  Hogal,  the  printer.  The  volume  furun  a 
small  (piarto  of  295  pages.  A  rude  cut  of  an  eagle  on  a  cactus,  with  a  snaiw 
in  its  beak,  and  surmounted  by  a  star  and  crown,  figures  on  tiie  first  pa^'c  of 
each  number.  Of  all  these  early  papers  it  is  hard  to  find  more  than  s{att<'ri'd 
fragments.  At  Guatemala  a  monthly  periodical  was  issued  for  about  tlio 
same  time.  I  have  found  them  of  greater  value  comparatively  than  the  peri- 
od icaU  of  later  stirring  times. 

*  Valdes  began  the  Onctfn  in  1784,  in  accordance  with  royal  wriiiis'<i'm. 
See  Belem,  Hevop.,  i.  pt  iii.  195.  In  1805  it  was  under  the  editorship  of  ^'xn- 
celada,  who  became  noted  for  the  pertecutiun  he  suffered,  as  related  ehe- 


NOTES. 


533 


wlifirc.     Througliout  its  career  there  were  freqiient  interruptions,  from  lack 
ui  |ii'iiitiiig  inaturial  and  news,  and  from  oliicial  intcrferenuc. 

"Tlie  tir.st  periodical  at  Vera  t'ruz  was  the  short-lived  Correo  Mercuntil  of 
ISOI.  In  ISOG  cauie  the  Joriml  Ecotioiiiico,  which  was  succeeded  in  1807  by 
Jiiirii)  MvrctiutU,  and  later  by  Didiii)  de  Venifiruz,  which  continued  after  the 
la.lcjioudcnce.  Lento  de  Tej(u(a,  Apuntes  Hitt.,  .'144.  The  Olmermidor  Amen- 
ciw)  is  said  to  have  been  printed  with  wooden  types  at  Soltepec  in  ISIO. 
Mniiico  Alex.,  vi.  41.  Among  Tmu.siictioiis,  I  have  that  of  tiie  Sociedad 
Koiiniiniica  of  (iuatcmala,  begun  in  17U7. 

"  Copies  of  docuiiients  from  all  American  departments  passed  to  the  India 
Ciiuiicil  in  Spain.  Regulations  fur  the  guidance  of  the  royal  historian,  and 
fir  the  care  of  the  arcliives,  are  to  be  found  in  Zainom,  Bib.  Leij.  UU.,  i.  381- 
'.';  iii.  oOl);  liecop.  de  IivL,  Ordenmauu  1{khU's  del  Comejo,  folios  xxi.-ii.  Basa- 
K  iiijuc  shows  that  m  ,576  the  Augustinians  had  four  respectable  libraries. 
Piur.  S.  Aic,  39.  Tlie  university  opened  to  tlie  public  in  1702.  The  Jesuit 
uiUege  had,  in  1797,  4li00  volumes,  and  the  Letran  had  grown  in  modern 
tmios  to  more  than  12,000.  Alaman,  /iw^.  Mij.,  i.  120,  mentions  four  private 
liliiaries  at  Guanajuato  with  over  1000  volumes,  besides  the  select  collections 
(if  Inlendente  Ria&o  and  Doctor  Labarrieta.  Zamacois  borrows  modern  sta- 
tistics to  give  size  to  old  libraries,  so  as  to  raise  the  estimate  for  colonial 
times.  I/ist.  Mi^j.,  pp.  120G-7. 

"A  list  of  419  is  given  in  Pnjtfkn  Frnnriscanos,  M.S.,  i.  7  et  .seq.  Vetan- 
curt  also  gives  lists  in  Cron.,  140,  etc.;  Menohij.,  43050;  and  Davila  Padilla, 
Ui4.  Fond.  Mex.,  053  et  seq.,  gives  Donnnican  authors. 

'■See  exiiortation  in  Medimi,  Chnm.  de  S.  Dieijo,  04-6. 

"  For  additional  specimens  of  Nahua  verse  I  refer  to  my  Native  Roren,  ii. 
4'.ll  7.  Speeches  are  frequently  introduced  into  the  same  and  following 
vciliiiiics.  See  also,  Gr(iiiii)/o,i,  Titnlex,  90-4;  Kln'/nltmvuii/i'x  ^lex.  Audi/.,  viii. 
Ill)  ].");  Dor.  Hist.  Mex.,  serie  iii.,  torn.  iv.  280-93;  M'iiller,  ReUin,  iii.  138- 
•II.  The  verses  preserved  by  Pesado  in  Ltis  Aztccas  are  so  distorted  by 
rliythiiiic  transformation  from  translated  versions  as  to  be  valueless  to  the 
stiidiMit,  Clavigero  declares  exuberantly  that  '  il  linguaggio  della  lor  Poesia 
ir.i  puro,  anieuo,  brillaute,  tigurato,  e  fregiato  di  frequenti  comparazioni  falle 
enlK;  cose  piu  piacevoli  della  natura.'  Storin,  Mem.,  li.  175. 

"  For  particulars  concerning  the  host  of  literary  lights  among  Indians,  I 
rofir  to  E(jmim,  Bih.  Mvx.,  i.;  Bemtniii,  Bih.  JfLsp.  Amer.,  i.-iii. ;  Boturini, 
('iitiiloi/o,  -pnaaim;  Alredo,  Bih.  Am.,  MS.,  i.-ii.;  Gmnados,  Tarden  Amer.,  145 
etc.;  Clitviijero,  Stotia  Mexn.,  iv.  202,  etc.,  wherein  is  given  a  long  list  of 
writors  in  Indian  dialects;  Zerecero,  Mem,  Rev.,  436  et  seq.;  Zamacois,  J/i.tt. 
Mij.,  V.  215-20.  482,  719,  etc.;  x.  1230  etc.,  app.  91-5;  GaUo  I/ombre.f  Iln.4., 
i.  IV. ;  Dkc.  Univ.,  i.-x.;  Soc.  Mex.  Oeo<j.,  Boletin,  epoc.  ii.,  torn,  iv.,  130,  etc.; 
Ortiz,  .Me.r..  Indep.,  179-228. 

'Uurgoa  and  Ribas  present  important  chronicles  for  Oajaca  and  Sonora, 
rosjK'ctivoly,  in  the  old-fashioned  ambiguous  and  verbose  style.  In  more 
ailvaiR'cd  form  is  the  bidky  history  of  NIexico  by  Ignacio  Carrillo,  a  prolific 
('\|iiiundcr  of  the  slirinc  lore  of  Now  Spain.  Ihework  remains  in  manu- 
script, wliich  is  the  more  to  be  regretted  as  the  information  relates  largely 
t(i  iti-ititutional  matter  of  great  interest.  Nicolas  Segnra  ranks  before  tlie 
tiiru'  of  his  religious  brother  Alcgre  as  a  prominent  writer  on  tlieology. 

"■'His  Work  ni  three  volumes  bears  the  imprint  Bononia,  1791  2.  I  have 
liail  fnMpient  occasion  in  the  earlier  volumes  of  tliis  series  to  refer  to  the  dif- 
ferent kinds  of  biograpliy,  which  apjiear  besides  to  profusion  intheelironioles, 
iiiitably  Vetancurt  s.  Among  special  representative  books  may  be  mentioned 
TiT'.-i,  Vidii  Ejemj)lar  de  Bnrlxira  Jo.si'jiliii  lie  S.  Frnnei.seo,  (l"'-3);  Roilri'itiez, 
lii'ln  I'rodiijiom  del.  .  .Fray  Selxvtti)in  dr  Ajmrieio;  Ximenrzy  Friii»,  El  Fenix  de 
!"■•  .Miiierox  Riron,  1779;  Velivieo,  Ehujio  IliM.  The  BiliUnthera  Mixicana  of 
Fi.'iiiara,  in  Latin,  is  really  a  biograpliy  of  writers  but  by  no  means  c(|iial  to 
tlic  jirefeding.  I.  Lazeano  wrote  in  the  middle  of  the  century  a  number  of 
Jciiiit  biographies. 
'  Torijuemada  furnishes  a  list  of  early  Franciscans  wkotigurud  as  phdologic 


;;:;i 

!»"'* 


'■■'  i 


iJU 


534 


LITERATURE  OF  COLONIAL  MEXICO. 


writers.  Among  the  earliest  was  Friar  Juan  Bautista  Vetancurt,  Cron.  140 
eti;.,J/enofo;/.,43(i-56,  has  atlditioual  names,  Davila  Padilla,  J/M.  Fund.  J/r.c, 
(3.').'{  et  seq.,  gives  Dominican  autliora,  Cogolhulo,  JlLit.  Yimithan,  4.'il(  4i), 
mentions  writers  in  the  Maya  tongue,  added  to  hy  Ancona,  Hint.  Yw.,  iii. 
'.'47  and  others;  Clavigero,  St<>rUi  Mesa.,  iv.  264,  enumerates  aboriginal  cnn- 
uilmtora;  as  in  Soc.  Mvx.  Geoy.,  Bolttin,  2a  ep.,  iv.  148  etc.  In  ZamacMis 
and  other  authorities  may  be  found  further  details. 

•"In  Alzate's  footsteps  follows  the  curate,  Diego  de  Alvarez,  a  prolific  wrih  r 
on  arl.s  and  sciences,  as  well  as  theology.  Hipolito  Villarrocl  figures  alien. t 
tho  same  time  as  a  political  essayist,  and  Fausto  de  Elhuyar  wrote  on  tlin 
coinage  „y8tem.  For  more  detailed  accounts  of  these  and  otlier  writers  I  leiir 
to  the  foot-notes  of  the  earlier  volumes  of  my  H'utory  of  Mexico,  and  to  liia 
woiks of  Eguiara  and  Beristain. 

'•Of  Beristain  8  numerous  works,  of  which  only  a  few  are  noticed  by  bibli- 
ographers, I  have  more  than  a  dozen,  including  manuscripts.  Among  the 
sources  used  by  him  without  acknowledgement  were  the  notes  on  Mexicna 
literature  by  Axcarate  y  Lezama,  whose  pen  figured  also  in  jurisprudino', 
biography  and  poetry.  Another  Creole  of  colonial  times  who  prepared  a  bilili- 
o2rai)hy  was  Alcedo,  of  whom  I  speak  elsewhere,  but  his  Bildioteca  Awericnnn 
of  1 807,  remains  in  manuscript,  of  which  my  shelves  contain  one  of  the  few 
copies  extant  in  two  volumes.  The  supposition  that  it  endjracoa  little  nioro 
than  the  later  edition  of  Pinelo  is  hardly  just,  for  I  am  indebted  to  it  f'>r 
much  important  information. 

^"Caiirera  Quintero  was  an  eloquent  presbjrter  with  a  prolific  pen.  Sor- 
mons  of  all  classes  are  well  repre.sented  on  my  shelves,  one  set  alone  consisting 
of  4'.)  volumes,  with  specimens  from  three  centuries.  Among  these  several  v.  I- 
uiue^f  embrace  specimens  from  Haro  y  Peralta,  with  Latin  foot-notes  iiistcid 
of  the  usual  marginal  references  of  previous  and  contemporary  sfeniuuis. 
Several  are  printed  at  Mexico  in  about  1777. 

^'Cimde  y  Ocjuendo's  prize  i.^eech  was  the  Etoijlo  de  Felipfi  F".,  publishoil 
l)y  the  academy  in  1773  ami  at  Mexico  in  1785.  He  left  three  volmiies  of 
orations,  a  di.'sertatiou  on  the  (iuadalupe  image,  Mexico  1852,  and  soino 
minor  pieces.  After  figuring  as  professor  and  canon  in  New  Spain  he  duMJ 
at  I*uet)la  in  17711,  06  years  of  age.  Arellano,  Eloyia  Selecta,  l-Dl,  coutaim 
specimens  of  oratimis  by  college  graduates. 

^'■Hiamboa  was  a  man  of  groat  magnetism,  'tanto  el  virey  y  real  audictui  i 
como  los  dos  cabildos. . . recommendando  su  merito, 'observes  Alzatc,  iii.  .■)7>. 
Beristain,  Bih.  Ui»j\.  Amer.,  art.  (iamboa,  credits  him  witti  17  vohniics  i<\ 
writings,  chiefly  briefs.  The  Vomentarion  a  dm  Urdeminais  de  Miiicu  was  i>s\u  .1 
at  Madrid  1761  and  London  18H0,  in  translation,  as  a  work  of  great  inent 
and  value.  See  also  (Hero,  in  Dire.  Uiiiv.,  ix.  317  et  seq  ;  Oidlo,  Jfonil ns  II 
nstres,  iii.  15-34.  Here  may  be  mentioned  Lardi/abal  y  Uribe,  whose  o})iii- 
inns  are  higldy  esteemed.  Airoug  treatises  for  the  guidance  of  aspiring  mvi- 
tors,  I  find  the  DiKew:<to  Hii4ttricn  Vrltieo  sre  la  OnUoritt  E.^ffxiTiola  y  Aiin'rirnna, 
a  bulky  manuscript  Work  of  the  la  it  century,  wherein  tiio  author  seek-  to 
analyze  the  elements  of  the  art  and  the  proficiency  exiiil)itetl  by  ditlVic  at 
nations,  notably  the  Spaniards  on  both  con'.inents.  He  is  full  of  leariuil  n- 
ferences,  and  also  of  cumbrous  quotations,  and  wanders  sadly  from  lii.s  niili- 
ject,  so  that  but  little  is  gained  by  the  reader. 

'^Saavcdra's  Perei/rino,  issued  at  Madrid  1599,  and  consisting  of  20  cai'tns 
of  16,000  lines  concludes  the  main  conquest;  a  promised  second  ]iait  iitiUA  to 
apjiear.  Balbuena  places  him  among  the  excellent  poets  of  the  West  lii.i  ch, 
anil  Lope  de  Vega,  in  a  sonnet  dedicated  to  Saavedra  (Juzman,  calN  ln^i 
Cortes'  Lucan.  Vicente  Esjiinel  speaks  of  the  Pfrei/rino  as  a  'jmra  eeinli'.iili 
y  verdadera  hintoria.'  Piwvlo  Elj^itimie,  ii.  605,  and  Antonio  fi>V'.  l/i<j>.  .\"'', 
1.  125,  notice  him,  and  Eguiara,  Bih.  Mex.,  272-.%  devotes  two  coluiiiin  tn 
his  work,  wliich  was  written  in  70  ilays,  'quod  post  niodum  odidit.' 

"Beristain  mentions  several  shorter  poems  by  Ruiz  de  Leon,  and  rii;litl\' 
attributes  his  defects  chieriy  to  the  prevalent  bad  taste.  He  also  wmir  /• ' 
Tilxmla  Indiana,  coaceruing  the  Carmelites,    Icazbalceta  lately  diacovcred  hu 


NOTES. 


685 


Mirra  dulre  pnra  aliento  de  rieeadores,  Bogota  1700,  which  contains  over  300 
t(,'ii-lino  stanza.s  depicting  the  virgin's  sorrow  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  wliich 
iiiaiiifcst  <an  exuberant  variety. 

■i^Turrazas  tiguretl  in  1574  and  received  tiie  honor  of  praise  from  Cervantes 
ill  hook  vi.  of  his  Odlnti'a.  Curta  de  hid.,  ISl,  847.  His  assiinieil  fatiier,  the 
iiiciyordonio,  is  ideutilied  with  the  Auonoymous  C'ou(iUuror,  wlio  wrote  on 

tlie  COIKjUOst. 

'^"Tlie  cacinueship  of  Lopez  adds  interest  to  his  collection  of  traditions, 
wliifh  remain  in  manuscript  on  my  shelf.  Tarras  poem,  in  31  cantos  of  40 
octaves  eacii,  covering  the  history  of  Jalisco  between  l;V21)-47,  alj^o  remains 
in  manuscript,  at  tlie  nm«eum  of  Mexico  and  in  my  Ubrary.  L.  II.  Ugarto 
wrote  a  CiU  which  received  the  prai.ie  of  IJalliueua. 

«  Tiie  (ffditdi'za  de  Mexico  of  Balbueua  was  issued  at  Mexico  in  1004,  a 
copy  of  which  rare  edition  is  in  my  collection.  Keprints  liave  appeared 
even  in  modern  times. 

^"Castro's  Triiinfn  is  dated  1786,  and  the  Orntifudis,  1793.  The  latter  is 
in  octo-syllabic  quatrains,  with  asonantes.  Viwje.de  Anierku  a  Jioma,  Mex- 
ico, 1745,  is  l)y  a  namesake  friar,  in  running  verse,  a  mere  rhytlimic  narra- 
tive, in  dreary  monotone  of  what  tlie  writer  saw  on  a  journey  to  Komc. 
A.  M.  Pastrana  wrote  several  pieces  in  honor  of  tlic  Guadalupe  virgin, 
notably  the  Cunnon  Ifi-iloiirn,  lt597,  which  was  praised  as  a  blending  df 
Virgil  and  Gdngora.  Tlie  first  of  the  above  C'astros,  Francisco,  was  a  native 
of  Madrid, 

'^  Among  the  customary  prefatory  eulogies  Frias'  book  contains  a  lini 
from  liis  printer. 

2*Juaua  de  la  Cruz  had  a  double  claim  to  Creole  blood  on  the  mother's 
side,  with  patriotic  sympathies.  Little  Jiiana  lues  do  Asbaje  y  linmirez  de 
Cantillana,  as  slie  was  caUed  after  her  parents,  was  taken  to  Mexico  from 
her  liKiiio  at  San  Miguel  de  Nepantla,  on  tlie  shipe  of  I'opocatepetl;  she  died 
in  i<)!>5  at  the  age  of  44,  in  the  convent  of  San  Jeronimo  at  Mexico,  of  tin; 
Coiioepcion  sisters,  after  having  lived  there  for  27  years.  'Asistio  todo  el 
taliildo  en  la  iglesias,'  says  Roldcs,  Diario,  iii.  460,  implying  that  a  pest  car- 
ried lier  off,  A  model  for  her  later  life  had  been  a  sister  of  the  same  con- 
vent name,  Juana  Inez  de  la  Cruz,  whose  life  is  given  iu  Si'jiii'iim  y  Gnwjoro, 
/'iinii/iotjrrid.,  r29-o2,  aud  for  whom  stops  were  taken  toward  canonization 
a<  sliown  in  Ordrnen  de  Vorond,  vii.  60-1.  Of  our  poetess  Father  Caileja 
j,'ives  the  earliest  sketch  in  a  preface  to  the  Barcelona  1701  eilition  of  her 
|i.Kins,  and  to  this  little  is  added  by  later  Mexican  writers,  .such  as  Callo, 
If'iii.hrci  Ilw-lri'ii,  ii.  3r).S-72,  Ortiz,  M<:r.  /m/ipi-iit.,  '201-3,  Zamucois,  Pimen- 
t(  1  others.  Many  of  her  writings  appe.irecl  iluring  lier  life,  at  Mexico,  Pue- 
lila,  and  in  Spain,  some  of  them  unknown  to  our  biographers,  yet  rcprcseutpd 
on  my  shelves.  In  1()!K)  a  set  of  collected  poems  was  issued  at  Madri<l;  oth- 
ers followed  in  169.3,  1700,  1714,  at  different  cities,  ami  in  17'-'.')  came  what  is 
trrnied  a  fourth  complete  eilitiim  in  three  sm.  4o  volumes,  far  inferior  in 
shape  to  the  preceding.  An  issue  seems  to  have  appeared  in  1801.  The 
Adior,  comedy,  placed  in  ancient  <  Irceco  and  marred  also  by  anachronisms, 
is  i)artly  from  the  pen  of  Juan  de  i  Juevara,  of  Mexico. 

^'.Soria's  comedies  were  much  apjireciated  in  the  eighteenth  century, 
notably  (ri'iion'vimrnlOnillcrnio.  The  manuscript  of  Vela's  comedies  is  nearly 
all  lost.  Some  of  Arriola's  sacred  poetry  is  on  my  shelves.  Hesid(!s  coine- 
ilitM  Salazar  left  two  autos  sacrameiitales,  a  loa  for  the  comedy  Thr/in  and 
/''liiiM.  a  drama  for  the  university  of  Mexico,  a  eollcctifin  of  lyrics  under  the 
title  Ld  Ciliira  de  Aynlo,  and  some  fables.  He  died  at  the  early  age  of  33. 
(Iitiz  de  Torres  and  (}.  Hcderra  are  remembered  for  their  loas,  and  Kamire/ 
Vargas  for  El  M<nji)r  Triunfn  ilr  D'ntnn. 

^-()f  Alarcon's  works  twenty  comedies  were  issued  in  collected  form  at 
Madrid  in  16'i8  and  1634.  although  his  name  had  already  appeared  in  print. 
This  iininbcr  by  no  means  includes  all  the  pieces  from  his  pen,  many  of  which 
wiTf  long  ascribed  to  his  greater  rivals.  Il4>iirints  have  since  been  issued  at 
■Mexico  and  Madr'd,  and  a  voluminous  biography  at  the  latter  place,    in 


836 


LITERATURE  OF  COLONIAL  MEXICO, 


1871,  by  Fernandez-fJuerra,  under  the  auapicea  of  the  royal  academy,  which 
deserves  the  prize  accorded  to  it  for  uxhauative  and  careful  research,  lu 
Gallo,  Homhres  Ihutreg,  ii.  284-330,  and  several  Mexican  works,  ample  refer- 
ence is  made  to  him.  Tickuor  and  other  historians  of  literature  have  lianlly 
done  him  justice.  Pinelo  barely  alludes  to  him,  but  Antonio i/ifc.  //wp.  Am., 
iii.  354  is  somewhat  more  generous.  Medina  speaks  of  his  brother  Pedm 
who  attained  some  prominence  in  the  church,  and  was^rector  of  San  Juan  de 
Letran.  C'liron.  S.  Dkijo,  251 ;  Ximevez  y  Frvii,  El  Fenix. 

^  Diego  de  Asis  Franco  is  claimed  as  the  first  creole  actor  of  note  in  Mex- 
ico, figuring  about  1740.  Concerning  theatres  I  refer  to  //w<.  Mexim,  iii. 
773-4,  this  series.  Among  the  manuscript  sets  on  my  shelves,  under  the 
title  CoiiiediiM  en  Mexkano  ,  are  several  translations  into  aboriginal  tongues 
from  Lope  and  other  dramatists 

**  Larraftaga's  Virgil  was  jmblished  at  Mexico  in  1787  in  4  volumes.  His 
brother  joined  him  in  other  transLations  and  original  poems.  Vicente  Torija 
also  translated  Virgil's  works  into  Castilian  verse,  but  failed  to  achieve  pub- 
lication.    He  wrote  a  letter  from  Dido  to  .^Eueas,  beginning: 


Cual  cisne  moribundo 

Sobre  el  hilmedo  cesped  recoatado, 

Del  Ueaudro  profundo 


Tiemo  se  queja  del  rigor  del  hado; 
Asi  yo,  con  impulso  mas  divino 
Canto  la  ley  de  mi  fatal  destine. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


LITERATURE  OF   MEXICO  DURING  THE  PRESENT   CENTURY. 

In  all  that  affects  the  weal  or  woe  of  communities,  minil-power  is  greater 
thau  steam-power. 

—  Whipple. 

The  impulse  given  to  education  and  literature  at  the 
close  of  the  last  century  manifested  itself  among  other 
forms  in  the  accumulation  of  books,  and  later  in  the 
issue  of  periodicals.  Unfortunately  the  revolution 
and  subsequent  disorders  checked  the  one,  and  gave 
an  irregular  and  less  desirable  direction  to  the  other. 
Aside  from  the  ravages  of  war,  and  attendant  inse- 
curity, which  caused  the  destruction  of  archives,  and 
the  exportation  and  sale  in  Europe  of  such  inestima- 
ble libraries  as  those  of  Andrade  and  Ramirez,  a  blow 
oven  more  severe  was  struck  in  the  extinction  of  re- 
liy;i()us  orders,  which  involved  the  disappearance  of 
Itooks  and  manuscripts  never  to  be  replaced.  Monks 
wiie  here  as  elsewhere  the  stern  censors  of  literature 
as  well  as  its  watchful  guardians,  a  bane  to  contem- 
porary  flocks,  a  blessing  to  future  generations.  In  a 
few  states  zealous  persons  interfered  to  save  a  rem- 
nant of  works  as  a  nucleus  for  public  collectic»ns,  but 
tlio  supreme  government  took  no  cfl^ective  steps  to 
t'lnn  a  national  library  before  1857.  Meanwhile  a 
number  of  private  collections  had  been  made  and 
cared  for,  that  of  Icazbalceta,  for  instance,  including 
nianj'^  early  and  rare  Mexican  volumes,  while  others 
exhibit  a  wide  range  of  subjects,  equal  to  the  enlight- 
» IK  d  aspirations  of  the  country,  or  rather  of  the  cul- 
tured classes,  for  the  masses  remain  sunken  in  igno- 

(637) 


«38      LITERATURE  OF  MEXK'O-NINETEENTH  CENTURY. 


ranee,  caring  little  or  notliiiig  for  books  or  even  news- 
pa  })crs.' 

Men  of  letters  combined  moreover  to  orjianize  lit- 
erary  societies  for  the  accumulation  of  books,  the  fos- 
tering   of  taste,  and  the  publication  of  meritorious 
efforts.     The  first   of  the    kind,    the    Instituto,  Mas 
opened  in  1826,  on  April  2d,  with  such  members  as 
Lucas  Alaman,  Carpio,  and  Koo ;  but  like  the  Colegio 
de  Jesus  of  Doctor  Mora,  opened  under  the  auspicis 
of  Gomez    Farias,   it  failed  to  survive.     Ten   years 
later  was    started    the  Academia   de   San   Juan   de 
Letran,  which   also  sank,  yet  rose  again  in   1850  as 
the  Liceo  Hidalgo,  recently  reestablished  by  Alta- 
mirano,  together  with  the  more  imposing  Acadeiuia 
Nacional  de  ciencias  y  literatura,  founded  by  ^laxi- 
milian  and  given  impulse  under  Juarez.     A  special 
linguistic    association   rose    in   accord   with    that  of 
Madrid.     The  most  vigorous  of  this  class  has  been 
the  Instituto  Nacional  do  Gcografi'a,  which  since  its 
creation    in    1833,  chiefly   by   Minister  Angulo,  lias 
done  great  service  to  the  c  untry  in  collecting  liis- 
toric,  tlescriptive,  and  statistical  data  from  all  paits. 
Others  of  a  more  social  character,  or  with  less  aiiilii- 
tious  aims  and  operations,  a[ti)eared  at  diH'erent  static 
centres  to  the  number  of  four  score,  of  which  thi(  e- 
eiiihths  are  scientific,  tlie  rest  artistic  and  liteiaiv, 
with  the  latter  mcreasing."     Their  influence  on  the 
cultivation  of  letters  has  been  of  value,  and  pionilMS 
to  become  greater,  to  tiie  achievement  of  inaiiv  ini- 
portant  tasks,   among   them   probal)ly  a  dictioiKHN , 
which  the  ever-growing  number  of  idioms  and  ikw 
words  seem  to  call  for. 

The  societies  assisted  to  spread  the  taste  for  Fn  ucli 
writings  and  methods  which  has  so  widely  entered 
into  rivalry  with  the  models.  In  the  liberal  recep- 
tion of  foreign  ideas  Mexico  surpasses  the  niotlicr 
country,  which  lies  so  much  nearer  the  centics  of 
culture,  and  she  dnnks  readily  at  the  classic  founts. 
The  fact  is  she  remains  nearly  as   much  as  ever  a 


LIBERATION  OF  MIND. 


tm 


copyist,  only  her  range  is  wider.  There  are  so  few 
independent  efforts,  and  those  not  sufficiently  vigorous 
or  striking  to  impart  a  new  direction.  One  cause  lies 
in  the  withdrawal  of  so  many  of  the  best  men  into 
political  life,  with  its  alluring  prospects  of  position 
and  wealth,  to  the  neglect  of  the  literary  field,  which 
is  accordingly  left  too  open  to  foreign  influence  to 
prove  encouraging  to  the  local  writer.  Nor  can  it  be 
expected  that  literature  should  assume  great  strength 
amid  the  disorder  so  long  prevailing. 

Nevertheless  the  liberation  from  colonial  thraldom 
is  apparent;  liberation  from  the  narrow-minded  }M)licy 
of  isolation,  from  the  lack  of  facilities  for  printing 
and  of  patronage,  and  from  the  rigid  censorship  of 
state  and  church,  which  excluded  anything  that  might 
in  tlie  least  shake  child-like  independence,  loyal  de- 
votion, and  orthodox  sentiment;  from  anything  which 
might  render  the  suspected  Creoles  equal  to  Iborinn 
prototypes,  and  therefore  insutfcrably  conceited,  puflrd 
W  dangerous  aspirations.  Howards  were  reserved 
for  Iberian  imitators,  while  attempts  at  originality  or 
foreign  admixtures  were  frowned  down.  Home  pro- 
ductions were  despised, and  soaring  geniuses  like  Juana 
de  la  Cruz  were  actually  induced  by  bigoted  cliurch- 
mou  to  abandon  verse-making  as  pernicious  to  the  soul. 

The  stirrinj;  incidents  of  the  revolution  and  of  in- 
dependent  rule  gave  certain  encouragement  and  direc- 
tion to  the  liberated  mind,  although  less  than  might 
have  been  expected.  The  subsequent  fratricidal  wars 
could  hardly  prove  a  fountain  of  inspiration.  The  main 
stinmlus  came  in  intercourse  with  hitjierto  excluded 
nations,  notably  France,  whose  law  and  precepts  fur- 
nislied  also  the  incentive  for  a  more  liberal  yet  critical 
recourse  to  the  ever-cherislied  models  of  the  penin- 
sula. The  bond  of  language  and  race  was  too  strong 
to  be  broken  by  mere  ]K)litical  ditterences.  The  atteii- 
unted  ligament  received  indeed  a  negative  recujiera- 
tion,  in  the  ilirection  of  literature  at  least,  bv  the  lack 
of  sympathy  on  the  part  of  the  Teutonic  peoples. 


640      LITERATURE  OF  MEXICO-NINETEENTH  CENTURY. 

To  Central  America  likewise  was  opened  the  enliv- 
ening  foreign  intercourse,  but  it  did  not  possess  tlit> 
massed  population  or  the  large  centres  of  Mexico,  and 
least  of  all  a  fostering  capital,  with  inhabitants  num- 
bered by  the  hundreds  of  thousands,  the  seat  for  the 
wealth  and  culture  of  a  vast  country,  where  libraries, 
archives,  museums,  and  learned  societies  provided 
sources  and  incentives  innumerable ;  where  an  imuos- 
ing  series  of  newspapers  and  magazines  offered  chan- 
nels for  productions,  for  training  hnd  remuneration, 
and  where  influential  patrons  figured  as  Ma3cenas  for 
a  host  of  aspirants. 

The  foreign  influence  is  observable  not  alone  in  the 
improved  thought  and  form,  but  in  a  change  from 
the  religious  element  which  predominated  in  colonial 
times  to  more  profane  or  eclectic  topics.  The  descrip- 
tive and  objective  have  yielded  greatly  to  reflective  or 
subjective.  The  artificial  and  borrowed  similes  from 
classic  mythology  have  been  widely  supplanted  liy 
aboriginal  sources  and  nature.  Variety,  rich  sim- 
plicity, and  comparative  ease  and  freedom  have  re- 
placed the  old  conventional  monotone. 

The  most  conspicuous  evidence  of  the  revival  is 
presented  in  the  press,  and  notably,  for  our  purpose, 
in  literary  periodicals.  They  have  been  imposing  in 
the  aggregate,  and  although  as  a  rule  short-livctl,  ini- 
sustained  in  contents  as  well  as  existence,  like  tlie 
efforts  of  the  Creoles  in  general,  yet  the  fugitive  con- 
tributions, and  still  more  numerous  clippings  from 
abroad,  could  not  fail  to  prove  attractive.  In  tlie 
decade  after  the  independence,  several  literary  ])a)i(  is 
appeared,  only  to  perish  at  tlie  outset.  Heredia  issm  d 
at  Tlalprm  in  1821  the  Miscekinea  Pcriodico  crdico  ii 
Lifemrio,  in  duodecimo  form,  with  a  very  attiaetive 
metlley.  The  Eufcrpe  sought  a  field  at  Vera  Cruz  in 
182(J,  and  the  Miscelanea  de  Liferatiira  was  started  at 
Mexico  on  Oct.  4,  1828.  El  0})servador  am]  Li  Min- 
erva heralded  the  regeneration  of  poetry.  In  thi-  fol- 
lowing decade,  two  of  somewhat  heavier  stamit  W(  ro 


EPHEMEUAL  PUBLICATIONS. 


541 


essayed  in  the  Regidro  and  Rcvista.  In  1840  and 
sul)soquent  years  several  qiiito  successful  efforts 
were  made,  and  after  that  a  series  of  more  or  less 
i|)hemeral  pulilications  come  fortli  in  swifter  succes- 
sion. Tlie  illustrated  Mosaico  reached  the  seventh  and 
last  volume  in  184'J;  the  Mhaco,  likewise  provided 
with  cuts,  had  more  than  one  interruption  hetweeii 
l.S43-r).  The  Liceo  of  1844  and  Album  of  1841)  at- 
tained to  only  two  volumes  each,  but  the  IJiiHtmcum 
went  further.  Among  the  host  of  less  notahlc  speci- 
mens stands  prominent  the  l^rcaenie  Amistoso,  with  its 
fine  selections  and  attractive  appearunce.  Sheets  de- 
voted to  humor,  satire,  and  arts  figure  in  the  list, 
and  also  industrial  journals.  Several  of  the  out- 
Ivinix  states  swell  the  number,  even  Yucatan  exhi- 
biting  before  1850  the  literary  periodicals  Masco 
and  Il('i/is(ro,  and  later  the  industrial  pa[)er  of  Bar- 
l)achano. 

Their  lack  of  support  is  due  greatly  to  the  en- 
croachment of  the  newspapers,  which  so  generally 
supply  the  public  with  feuilletons,  poetry,  and  other 
IiL;ht  reading  matter.  This  class  of  pul)lications  re- 
ceived a  perceptible  impulse  from  the  acquisition  of 
iudopendence,  when  every  state  and  many  a  party  be- 
came eager  to  sustain  an  organ.  In  1820  flourished 
fifteen,  six  being  at  Mexico  and  four  in  Yucatan. 
1)1  fore  the  middle  of  the  century  there  wore  as  many 
as  fifty  within  the  republic,  of  whicli  the  ca[)ital 
l)i)astcd  about  a  dozen.  Since  then  a  marked  increase 
has  taken  place,  amid  fluctuations  greatly  due  to  gov- 
ennncnt  restrictions  which  presidents,  governors,  and 
their  parties  found  it  necessary  to  impose  in  order  to 
maintain  their  often  illegally  acquired  power.  Itur- 
i>i<lo  suppressed  two  leading  journals  in  1822.  While 
S'liae  were  thus  disposed  of,  others  were  forced  by 
If.; Illations  from  the  field,  or  into  submission,  or  sub- 
sidized to  support  the  government. 

The  restrictions  were  in  some  respects  as  bad  as 
during  colonial  times,  but  they  were  fortunately  not 


542      LITERATURE  OF  MEXICO-NINETEENTH  CENTURY. 


poruiauont.  The  frequent  change  in  administrations 
gave  relief  and  recuperation,  ami  the  latterly  prevail- 
ing liberal  form  of  government  imposes  limitation  only 
in  certain  directions. 

There  are  now  ahout  two  hundred  journals  in  the 
repuhlic,  of  wJiich  thn'e  dozt-n  are  claimed  by  litera- 
ture, science,  and  art,  two  dozen  by  religion,  and  the 
rest  by  ])olitics  and  attendant  variety  of  subjects,  fully 
half  belonging  to  the  capital* 

The  uncertain  liberty  of  the  press,  the  large  pro- 
portion  of  subsidized  papers,  and  their  limited  circula- 
tion, all  tended  to  lower  the  inHuence  of  the  pul>Iic 
journals.  Nevertheless  they  did  good  service  to  lit- 
erature in  training  and  bringing  before  the  public  the 
writers  of  the  country.  Indeed,  the  foremost  public 
men  in  politics  and  letters  have  been  and  are  ooii- 
ncx-ted  with  the  press  as  editors  or  contributors, 
either  for  the  literary  colunuis,  or  for  editorials,  wliicli 
are  remarkable  for  their  forcible,  although  too  oft  in 
abusive  s[)ii"it,  and  compare  well  enough  for  thoU'ilit 
and  style  with  average  productions  of  the  world.  Tlic 
collectint;  of  local  news  receives  little  attention  as 
compared  with  gossip  and  l>arty  warfare,  and  the  \a- 
ried  selection  of  items  on  history,  industries,  arts,  ami 
sciences,  so  freely  supplied  by  Anglo-Saxon  journals, 
and  serving  so  high  a  purpose  in  the  education  (»t'  the 
masses,  3'ield  here  to  frivolous  feuillctons ;  and  tluse 
are  as  a  rule  copied  from  French  and  other  foreign 
sources,  original  notes  being  rare. 

The  characteristics  of  the  editorials  are  more 
pointedly  exhibited  in  the  new  outcropping  of  rcpuiiii- 
can  times,  the  political  pamphlet,  the  voice  of  the 
budding  orator  which  seeks  this  means  to  reach  the 
nmltitude,  or,  of  the  popular  one,  to  extend  or  hnprcss 
his  utterance,  and  to  further  relieve  his  pent  up  fid- 
inofs.  With  the  constant  strife  between  innumerable 
factions  and  the  impetuous  temperament  of  the  ])aiti- 
zans,  it  is  but  natural  that  they  should  seek  the  surer 
method  of  special   appeal,   since   the  circumscrilKil 


;r,i 


NEWSPAPERS  AND  JOURNALS. 


SIS 


limits  of  the  pross  aftordod  so  little  scope.  Bold  as- 
s(rti(»ii  here  replaces  fact,  a!id  eiuphnsis  diverts  atten- 
tion from  the  iidierciit  wcaknc^H  in  cluirjjjcs  or  defence, 
w  liilc  a  fiery  tt)ne  and  occasioii.il  bomlMist  strive  to 
stir  the  feolinj^s.  Many  appear  in  the  form  of  cate- 
cliisms,  alleijfories,   political  testanientn,  and  the  like. 

Suiu'rficiality  and  vapor  have  unfortunately  hei-n 
allowed  to  stanip  nearly  every  branch  of  literature,  at- 
tention l)ein<»  directed  rather  tt)\vard  brief  and  petty 
tli;in  grand  and  elaborate  efforts.  So  also  in  critical 
essays  the  writers  are  prone  to  pick  out  trifles,  and 
exhaust  themselves  on  details,  instead  of  «,'rasjtin«; 
H'cni'ral  features.  There  is  a  nianifV'st  lack  of  discrimi- 
nation, of  judgment,  with  a  leaning  for  the  Quixotic 
traits  of  Zoilus,  rather  than  the  staid  observations  of 
an  Aristarchus. 

I  need  here  instance  only  Pimental,  one  volume  of 
wliose  Ifisfnria  ('rifirn  de  hi  IJiivaiitra  vowwa  to  hand 
after  the  writing  of  this  treatise,  yet  in  time  for  the 
interpolation  of  a  few  remarks  upon  it.  He  dis])lays 
varifd  reading  and  a  retentive  niemory  of  foreign  lit- 
erature no  less  than  of  the  critical  works  of  Schlegel, 
Sisninndi,  Ticknor,  and  others,  and  ajiplies  their 
analysis  of  European  literature  with  great  eifect,  so 
far,  t(^  Mexican  poi'trv  by  classes  and  in  general.  But 
tlure  are  many  drawbacks,  as  in  the  a]»}>!ication  of  rigid, 
tasteless  rules  to  the  njeasurement  and  vei'sification, 
and  in  the  encund)ering  of  the  text  with  prolonged 
<IIsseetions  of  isolated  words,  wherein  a  mass  of  verv 
]tr(t]MT  expressions  are  ruled  out  as  ])rosiac;  words  like 
naked  are  condenmed  as  indecent,  and  so  forth.  These 
inepialities  and  extremes,  which  are  national  ratl;"r 
tlian  individual,  do  not,  however,  overshadow  the 
many  excellencies  of  a  work  which  promises  to  be  the 
first  history  of  literature  for  ^Fexico,  by  one  of  her 
ablest  literary  men.  Among  earlier  critics  La  Cor- 
tina has  achieved  consideration,  although  too  great 
attention  to  trivialities  lowers  the  value  of  his  efforts. 
Kstrada  y  Lecler  and  Ignacio  Ramirez  reach  a  higher 


'  :  ^ 


i  ■ 


I     ! 


544      TJTEUATURE  OF   MKXICO  -NINETEENTH  CENTtJRY. 

[)lano  in  tivatmcnt,  but  giv^e  loss  cvidfuco  of  original- 
ity and  insight. 

Literature  is  stamped  tlimugliout  by  tlio  volaiil  • 
disposition  of  tiic  race,  cctvored  to  some  extent  l)y  ;i 
Castilian  dignity  of  exterior,  yet  peering  forth  in  tin' 
extreme  politeness  of  manner,  and  in  the  superfici.il- 
ity  of  cdueation  and  ap[)lieation.  A  pi-oinincnt  trait, 
in  eonneetion  herewith  is  the  disposition  for  frivolous 
banter  and  playful  moekery,  whicji  find  utterance  in 
Jiumorous  and  satirie  sheets,  and  wide  response  from 
the  soeial  eireh',  with  its  misehievous  yet  innormt 
gaiety,  and  from  the  more  severe  sarcasms  of  tlic 
pam[»hlet(H'r.  The  latter  resorts  to  broad  similes  <ir 
direct  allusions  rather  than  to  subtler  delineation^ ; 
hence  the  presence  of  many  features,  objectionaMe  tn 
the  diHerently  trained  ideas  of  northern  peo])le,  hut 
which  on  the  other  hand  are  ftir  li'ss  pnnalent  than 
supposed  in  the  amatory  poetry. 

Satire  ])ertains  to  the  Indian  (>lement  as  nmrli  ns 
t.)  the  Spanish,  although  the  latter  bears  an  inqti-ess 
of  its  relined  Httratiun  prototype.  It  comes  then- 
\'nvc  more  naturallv  to  the  Mexican  than  humor  ■  r 
wit.  For  the  last  ho  possesses  vivacious  readings. 
but  not  originality ;  for  humor  lie  relies  rhietly  upon 
a  rollickin<jc  mimicrv  in  accord  with  the  talent  for  inii- 
tation,  but  which  differs  alike  from  the  sneering  con- 
ctMt  of  the  liriton  and  the  contrasting  self-ridicule  of 
th(5  American,  while  striving  to  a]>proac]i  tln^  niiddli' 
courso  of  the  French.  An  innate  vanity  and  tlie 
easy  structure  of  the  language  forbid  the  adoption  of 
the  successful  American  method,  while  jieculiar  rare 
and  class  condition  and  a  democratic  spirit  oppose  the 
other.  During  the  colonial  reginio  the  indulgenc*"' 
was  held  within  bounds,  but  the  revolution  gave  it 
free  reins,  and  it  turned  particularly  against  the  fin  :i 
expanding  taste  for  French  models,  against  a  declin- 
ing ch>rgy,  and  against  political  parties,  with  tlieir 
scrambling  aspirants. 


1. 1 

■  if  •» 


RATir.K   AND   HUMOR. 


545 


Foremost  in  this  fit;ld  wore  Fernantlcz  cle  Lizardi 
iiiKt  Juan  J:Jautista  Morales,  the  hitter  well  known 
tiiit»u.;li  his  Uallo  rUafjorico,  suggested  by  Lucian, 
and  al)0!i:Kiinu  in  vivacious  eonnuents  on  societv  and 
|i 'Htiea,  wkercin  lie  has  figured  as  governor.  Far 
iiion^  prtuinc,  thougli  less  spirited,  was  Lizardi,  one  of 
the  llrst  to  avail  himself  of  the  liberty  of  the  press, 
>j;nuited  in  1812,  by  publishing  the  sharp  political 
ji'urnal  El  Pcnsador,  a  name  ever  after  applied  to  him. 
!'(  rscoution  only  gave  zest,  and  his  pen  Howed  <'reely 
a  mid  the  dissolution  of  social  and  political  institu- 
tions, doing  good  service  to  the  cause  of  a  regencrat- 
Im'^;  iiide})endoncc.  His  attacks  in  diflercnt  slieets  or 
paiiiplilets  <'oncentrated  gradually  against  the  obnox- 
ious elements  in  clmrcli  and  soci>  tv  transmitted  from 
colonial  times.  His  cliicf  work  in  the  satiric  novel 
/,/  l\riquiUo  Sarmk'uio^o^  the  Gil  Bias  type,  although 
jipproaching  more  closely  to  the  jyicaroivo  form  of 
l.irjirillo  (Ic  Tornu^,  with  features  borrowed  from 
]\Iontesquieu.  Its  «>bservations  on  society  are  attrib- 
uted to  a  traveller,  whose  com))arisons  are  maiidy 
(hawn  from  Cliincse  manners  and  institutions.  The 
political  ff(  ling  (,f  the  time,  and  the  state  of  transi- 
tion, ti'uded  toward  the  success  of  the  book  ;  altliongh 
it  never  was  well  rect'ivcd  bv  tlie  hi<'lier  classes,  and 
not  unjustly  so  m  view  of  its  vulgar  tone  and  unsavory 
incidents.  Nor  can  it  exact  i»nj,,'li  admiration  for  in- 
ventive power  or  s[tirit.  There  is  an  excess  of  cold 
moralizing,  and  too  litt-c  humor.  XcvtM-theless  the 
\vork  stands  foremost  in  its  field  for  ^lexico.  His 
l^'iii  Cafrin  and  Quijatila  are  botli  of  the  picaresco 
"I'lcr,  that  is,  good-naturedly  malicious,  the  former 
less  jiretent'.ous  but  far  better  than  the  other.  The 
iuitlior  was  the  son  of  a  doctor,  born  in  Mexico  in 
1771,  and  well  educated;  persecution  and  comparative 
iiegl(>ct  long  attended  him.* 

Lizardi  wrote  some  fables  which  arc  still  quoted. 
Ill  <liis  line  he  had  a  rival  in  J.  N.  Troncoso.  tiie  jnib- 
lislier  of  the  first  journal  at  Puebla.     Both  were  sur- 

ESSAYS  AND  MifrRM.ASY        ."'l 


4i  I  111 
i 


546      LITKIIATUHK  OF  MKXICO-NIXETEENTH  CKNTUIlY. 

passed  in  duo  time  by  Josd  Rosas  y  Moreno,  whosi; 
simple  vet  elcijtant  iiroduetions  merit  for  Iiiin  recocrni, 
tioii  as  the  La  Fontaine  of  !^^exico  no  less  than  as  the 
chihlren's  poet.  Ochoa,  the  lyric  and  dramatic  ^riti  i\ 
contributed  some  satiric  letrillas  which  may  be  classed 
amonix  the  best  in  the  lan<xua'j;e.  A7  Jarahe  of  Zaiua- 
cois  presents  a  series  of  jocose  and  picjuant  sketches  of 
Mexican  society,  \vi<lely  apprecintcd.  Anions^  satins 
of  a  political  stamp  are  t^evcral  of  CMrlosBustamaiitc's 
shorter  pieces,  and  such  specimens  as  Arellano's.  lc^;.s', 
although  neither  exliibit  tlie  humorous  vein  that  runs 
through  Gimencz*  Eimn/O!^  M(i'p)rfico.<i,  1849.  Sauta- 
ciha's  Grvio  dd  Maf,  ISTil,  is  directed  against  tlir 
clergy  and  aristocracy,  but  with  a  less  pronounci d 
burlesque  spirit. 

The  effects  of  independence  on  oratory  became  evi- 
dent in  more  than  one  direction.  Secure  in  tlic  abso- 
lute sway  to  wliich  government  policy  lent  every  aid. 
tlie  pulpit  in  colonial  times  confined  itself  leisurdy 
either  to  the  conventional  homiletics  or  to  descriptive 
apjteals.  The  revolutioJi  roused  it  from  this  contented 
indolence  and  opened  a  wider  field.  This  movement, 
started  and  led  by  cl(>rgymen,  in  itsc^lf  induced  the 
cloth  very  generally  to  dwell  on  political  questions, 
while  the  s})read  of  liberal  or  even  heretical  views 
stirred  them  to  action  for  the  defense  of  tl:c  churrli 
and  profi'ssional  existence,  and  for  retaining  thrir 
hold  on  the  public.  Infidelity  had  to  be  met  with  ar- 
gunu'nts,  and  stolidity  with  ehxjucnce.  Uoubt  Mas 
encountered  with  arms  drawn  from  the  verv  countn 
of  Vttltaire,  although  in  imitation  of  a  ]^ossuet  and 
JVIassilon.  Hidalgo  himself  found  it  necessary  at  tlu' 
opening  of  his  campaigns  to  rise  in  dt'fense  of  tlie 
church;  and  this  in  an  address  which  confirms  the  or- 
atorical power  of  the  great  leader.  Tliat  stirring  }'e- 
riod  gave  rise  to  several  orators,  which  an  epigiain 
thus  characterizes:  Sancha diverts,  Sartoiio  eoii\'tts. 
Uribe assumes,  and  Dimas  confounds.     Sartorio,  if  ii"t 


ORATORICAL  DEVELOPMENT. 


547 


<.r 

the 

tlir 

cr- 

iii;i 

1"- 

'''- 

f.iiii 

ii\  ■ 

rl->. 

,  it' 

lint 

a  perfect  speaker,  deserved  to  liave  applied  to  him  the 
Words,  "vir  bonus,  [teritus  dieendi"  of  the  ancients. 
The  revivalist  tours,  esjieeially  of  the  religious  orders, 
assisted  to  maintain  a  fiery  delivery;  but  the  lofty  and 
profound  elo(juenee  exhibited  in  France  is  of  rare  oe- 
ciiireiiee  in  the  Spanish  race,  and  rarer  still  in  the 
Indian. 

The  change  injudicial  methods,  in  accordance  with 
^uggt'stions  {)resented  by  foreign  tribunals,  has  not 
fulcd  to  disclose  a  wider  range  for  the  legal  profes- 
sion, with  additional  incentive  for  rhetorical  display. 
Hut  tln!  great  f'.iture  in  oratory  has  been  itsdeveloi)- 
1111  nt  in  connection  with  politics,  which  is  indeed  a  new 
phase,  sinc(^  no  asscnnbly  existed  in  colonial  times 
\v!i(Tein  to  foster  debate,  and  no  election  field  for  the 
unfolding  of  harangue.  Fluency  of  tongue  was  innate, 
as  well  as  vivacitv  and  grace  ;  tlu'V  needid  l)ut  freedom 
of  sp  ■''eh  and  motive.  Both  were  granted  by  the 
icvol  ;p  '  !,  whose  gr(\'it  cause  gave  the  primary  in- 
spiration, while  stirring  tliemes  were  presented  in  its 
iii'idents,  its  heroes  and  martyrs.  If  the  discoui'se 
lacks  depth,  conviction  supplies  a  gap;  if  unity  and 
se(|uence  fail,  a  sympathetic  cord  is  touclied;  whiK' 
soai'ing  an<l  intlattMl  language,  intoned  by  loose  impul- 
sive em[)liasis  and  freely  assisted  by  gesture,  shed 
over  all  a  gloss  and  infuse  a  spirit  which  camiot  fail 
to  influence  audiences  e(]ua,lly  emotional.  The  Mexi- 
can possessesanaturil<'lofpu>nce.  which,  like  his  volatile 
<li'^positit»n.  brook:-!  little  the  interfei'enc<'  of  stU(Med 
older  and  intonation.  T]\o  latter  does  not  accord  well 
with  our  ideas,  for  it  follows  a  (piantitative  rathei* 
than  ac('(Mituat(>d  rhythm. 

.\niong  parlianieiitai'v  sp(>akers  I'lzefpiiel  Mo!ites, 
"f  (^)ueretaro,  reeeix-ed  th(>  sp(>cial  eiiconiiunis  of  (^^s- 
tt'lar.  liuis  de  la  Hosa.  a  minister  of  state  like  the 
other,  wielded  great  iiithience  with  his  ehxpK^ne  •. 
<!uti(»rrez  Otero  also  ranked  liigh,and  (loveriiorCM'  'v- 
eio  now  statMJsamong  the  foi'emost.  although  some  prefer 
ilie  iuoru  fiery  alcahle,  or  point  to  inspired  Zamacona. 


41'       ,t*, 
11       11 


i' n? 


■_jiM 


i.. 


■t ; 


II 


548      LlTEPvATUUK  OF   MK-XICO-NIMITKENTH  CEXTUIlV. 

The  fiiniiality  of  tlio  Spanish  o[>istolar  writing,  ag- 
crravated  by  the  frequt^nt  use  of  titles  antl  polite  terms, 
was  intensified  in  America  with  caste  distinction  and 
strife  for  position,  and  gra«lually  a  stitl"  hgal  phrasr- 
ohtgy  crept  in  which  acconhd  well  enough  with  iii- 
lierited  Spanish  <lignity.  Indeed,  the  few  adniind 
sjH'cimens  date  back  to  the  time  pri<»r  to  Juana  de  la 
Cruz,  whose  Caria  a  FUofta  is  stumped  by  tlic  pedan- 
tic turgidity  of  the  ])eriod.  The  acknowletlged  master- 
pieces are  from  the  pen  of  Oidor  Salazar  de  Alarcoii. 
figuring  at  the  advent  of  the  seventeentli  centurv. 
Nevertheless,  several  women  of  the  present  age  assi.Nt 
in  upholding  here  the  superiority  acconh^d  to  tlirir 
sex  in  tills  branch.  The  characteristic  fondness  of 
Iberians  for  proverbs  has  by  no  means  b(>eM  lost  in 
transplanting,  and  the  additions  made  are  many  of 
them  peculiar  to  the  new  envintnment. 

The  same  spirit  tliat  prompted  tlie  issue  of  political 
pamplilt'ts  impelled  to  a  great  extent  the  more  aiiili- 
tious  etibrts  at  history  writi'ig.  The  beginning  i»f 
revolutionarv  ni(»\i'ments  broutjht  out  several  v>ers()ii3 
eager  to  rush  into  [»rint  for  tlu;  defence  of  priiU  iplcs, 
or  personal  conduct,  such  as  Cancclada,  known  clr'etly 
as  a  journidist,  Aicocer,  and  A'llia  Hrrutia;  but  Im  k 
of  time,  means,  and  ))atronage  biuited  the  projects  to 
insignificant  |>rnductioiis.  A  higher  aim  animahd 
Doctor  Mier  y  (iuerra,  a  Dominicai  fr<»m  Monterey, 
whose  unjust  persecution  fur  certain  liberal  c  xpressions 
in  a  sermon  le<l  him  to  ab.'tndoii  )iis  profession,  and  he- 
come  a  wanderer  ajid  pamphleteer.  His  ability  in- 
duced Vicerov  Iturrioavav  to  enoagt.'  jiim  as  a  w  rit.r 
in  his  defence,  but  he  drifted  into  jdonounced  reviiiU- 
tionary  sentiments;    the    patron   withdrew,  and    the 


doct 


or  was  cast  into  a,  < 


lebt 


)!•  s  )»rison. 


Tl 


lis  cut  si.olt 


tlu'  continuation  of  the  work,  limiting  the  nai'ra'ion 
from  ISOS  till  the  be*rinnin<''  of  1  8  I  H,  a  period  of 'in- 
surpassed  interest  and  imi>ortance  for  Mexican  history. 
Research  and  erudition  aw.  evident,  but  marred  '}  a 


CARLOS   MAUI  A   RUSTAMANTE. 


549 


lark  of  ralin  disoriininaticm,  and  by  strong  bias.  Tlie 
treatment  is,  moreover,  raml*ling,  with  inconsiderate 
digressions,  and  the  text  is  burdened  with  quotations 
and  triviahties,  defects  whicli  the  frequent  instances 
(if  vigorous  and  j)k'asing  style  are  not  sufficient  to 
redeem. 

]>>ctor  Atora,  of  (Juanajuato,  clergyman,  and  lat-r 
fdreign  minister,  took  a  wider  view  of  the  sain<>  sub- 
jtct  in  tracing  its  causes  from  tlie  very  conquest,  and 
its  effect  in  the  social  and  political  condition  of  the 
1.  public.  While  seeking  to  correct  tlie  false  or  parti- 
san views  of  others,  he  falls  into  equally  narrow  ruts, 
and  does  not  display  sutTieient  <^le})th  in  his  speculation.^, 
lint  he  surpasses  in  clearness,  and  conq>rehensive  and 
svm metric  treatment. 

Tiiese  (jualities  have  iKtt  been  displayed  by  tlie 
(lironicler  Anastasio  Zerecero,  who  while  borrowini; 
HIk  rally  from  ])rei'eding  works,  resti'iets  himself  in  the 
main  to  an  apol(,<retie  re\iew  of  ITKlal^o.  ]>oi'eii/.o(ie 
Za\ala.,  on  tlie  other  hand,  uses  the  ineidrnts  of  colo- 
nial times  rather  as  sti  pping-stones  t(»  a  deseiijitiou  of 
the  dis(»rdei's  (hulng  the  first  tlecade  of  rej»nblic.in 
rule.  lie  side--  with  the  lowi'i'  factiotis  in  a  most  de- 
rided manner,  intrudes  his  own  [>erson  and  gubenia- 
t'li'ial  arts  on  everv  luissible  occasi(»n,  and  hii  iks  the 
historic  ehain  with  fVe<|U(^nt  controversies  and  devia- 
lioiis,  which  are  not  infre(|Uently  redeemed,  however, 
I'V  vivid  portrayals. 

The  most  comprehcMisive  historian  for-  the  fir>t  half 
>  f  this  century  is  CVii'los  INlari'a  Jhislaniaute,  a  man 
who  figured  promiiuMitiy  throughout  this  }terlod,  and 
early  attached  himself  to  the  cause  of  independence, 
henceforth  to  become  the  most  zealous  chami>ion  of 
vi  pubHcanism.  With  a  passion  for  writing,  he  drifted 
iV  mi  law  into  journalism,  and  thencc>  into  iiistory.  and 
i>  said  to  have  left  as  many  ns  eighty  volumes  of 
•  liaries  alone.  The  ('iKidra  ///Wr;r/Vv),  in  six  Aolunies, 
('■nns  the  bt  ginning  and  tht^  most  important  of  the 
Iti.storical  seri.'iJd,  whit  ii  contains  more  than  a  dozen 


1 


jiii 

li 


itlLlB 


r>50      LITERATUUK  OF   MKXICO— MXKTKKNTII  CEXTURV. 


extent  more 
)recc 


I'jf 


sots,  altliougli  several  are  to  a  great 
elahoratioiis  of  periods  already  covered  in  {)reccdii 
parts.  Ho  also  wrote  a  nunilxT  of  l)ioo;raphies,  reli- 
L;ious  disseitations,  and  other  treatises,  and  edited 
scjveral  valuable  works  on  aborij^inal  rites  and  histor\ , 
and  on  colonial  rule,  addin;^  notes  and  supplements. 
The  edited  series  inav  l>e  reLCardiul  as  an  introduetimi 
to  his  own,  so  that  the  two  combined  embrace  all 
Mexican  historv  to  1S48. 

While  showiiii'  dili<'"ent  research  lie  is  cartiless  and 
hasty,  and  e-ver  rea<ly  to  acce[)t  even  absurd  stati'- 
m(!nts  so  long   as  they  do  not  interfere  with  his  pi  r- 


so 


nal  bias.      In  earlie-r  works  he  is,  for  instance,  (j 


Ultr 


rabid  against  the  S[)aniards;  later  this  feeling  i-^ 
turned  against  the  Anglo-Americans;  and  throngli- 
out  ix-rvades  a  bigotrv  whicli  is  singularU'  (.'xtreiiu 
on  I't'ligious  topics.  To  this  he  subordinates  cNciy- 
tliiiig  else  when  they  meet,  and  only  too  frtuiuently 
he  seeks  a  divine  ur  miraculous  agency  to  explain  in- 
eidents.  After  inde})endenee  he  constituted  himself 
a  censor  of  nearly  e\'ery  administration.  His  stroiit; 
prejudices  and  fiery  and  erratic  ini[)ulses  are  percepti- 
hle  in  style,  marked  by  mnnethodical  arrangement, 
unwarr  i'ited  digressions,  and  conse<pi(>nt  lack  of  co- 
hcreney.      While    not    wanting  in  graphic,  and  e\(ii 


the  diction  is  on  the  whole  intli 


llrd 


lofty  jiassagei 
and  sloveidy,  with  a  stnniji  <tf  fidul  emphasis,  bi 
siiort,  tile  absence  of  study  in  subject,  treatment,  ami 
laiiguagt^  (end  gi<  atly  to  lower  ]iustamantc!'s  claim  as 
a    liistoiiaii ;     hut  his   mat<  rial,  based   partly  on   pt  r- 


so 


d  ob 


tb 


doeU 


ments  now   mac 


nial  ohservat  -ns,  partly  <>ii  ( 
sible,  will  i'en\ain  an  imperishable  monument  <<•  Iiis 
indefatigable  and  ]>atriotic  /eal.  An  instancr^  of  tlic 
use  to  be  made  of  his  labors  is  given  by  ^feiidivil.wlio 
in  18"2S  found  it  well  to  i-cduee  the  ^'"(/f/rn ///.s/o'/vV"  to 
the  inort!  reasonable  t'orm  of  a  RixiniKii  in  one  n-oIiumc. 
A  most  striking  conti'ast  to  this  volmninons  writer 
is  |tres<'nted  in  tlit;  works  of  the  abh;  mini.stei'  Lt'icas 
Alamaii,    who,    with    almost    t'<pud    aidor,   comhiiK.'d 


ms'iOilY  AND  POLITICS. 


561 


(loopcr  research,  irroproarliablc  caio,  and  admirable 
<liscriniiiiation.  He  not  only  declaimed  against  the 
Ititter  tirade  of  Si)aiiisli  historians,  and  the  l)lind  zeal 
f»f  IVIexicans,  displayed  in  accounts  of  tJie  revolution, 
but  he  saw  the  need  for  a  more  impartial  and  thort)U;4h 
version.  At  first  a  fear  of  public  feeling  withheld 
liiiii ;  but  finally  he  ac(|uired  courage,  and  issued  the 
Uision'ii  (Ic  Mijica,  which  is  undoubtedly  the  most  val- 
uable publication  of  its  kind.  lie  proposed  to  cover 
also  the  republican  period,  but  the  apathy  with  which 
t!u!  first  volumes  were  received  nuist  have  discoura'^ed 
him;  he  certainly  hurried  his  work  to  an  abrupt  cl<  )se. 
( 'iiuseientious  research  is  evident  throughout,  but 
despite  the  striving  for  impartiality,  marked  preju- 
liices  crop  out.  The  instincts  of  the  aristocratic 
Creole  cling  to  him,  and  he  cannot  conceal  his  coutemjtt 
fi>r  the  Indian  and  mixed  races  by  and  for  wliom  the 
rrvolution  was  mainly  achieved.  To  him  they  are 
an  inhuman  rabble,  and  in  their  leaders  he  recoofnizes 
iiotlniig  meritorious.  Toward  tlie  royalist  he  is  even 
tender,  while  Iturbide  is  j)erslstently  upheld  as  a  hero 
al)o\e  all  comparison.  The  treatment  of  his  subject 
is  able,  and  the  style,  wliile  fit  ([uently  constrained 
and  \-Ai\i^\\  with  Americanisms,  is  clear  and  attractive, 
and  even  elegant.  The  Americans  are  j)uri>osely  intro- 
duced, with  an  assertion  that  it  is  but  right  and  aji- 
I'l'Mpiiati'  to  do  so  in  a  Mi'xieaii  work.  The  length 
"f  tliis  histoi'v,  the  Itui'bidist  bias,  anil  other  de- 
ftitfi  induced  Liceaga  to  issue  a  condensed  and  cor- 
rected version  of  it  in  1808.  Alaman's  research  and 
careful  study  art^  still  more  dis[)layt  d  in  the  hiMoia- 
(■'<iii<>!,  a  s(!ries  <if  revised  lectun-s  on  «>pisodes  in  colo- 
nial times,  n(»tably  on  the  canrr  of  Cortes. 

With  the  establishnu'nt  of  republican  rt'ginu^,  Santa 
Anna  comes  into  prominence  as  the  leatling  figure, 
t'limd  whom  all  others  may  be  said  to  group;  and 
tliis  position  he  holds,  with  occasional  int«'rvals  until 
.biarez  rises  like  him  on  tlio  ruins  of  an  e[)lieinei'al 
<  iiipire,    but  to   a   nobler   elevation.     Santa   Anna's 


■*1 

■:  iiitiF; 


;i 


lis 


5->'2      LITEUATUUK  OK  MKXICO-NINETKKNTIL   CKNTURY. 


:  ! 


s  • 


caroor  is  stamped  ratlur  with  iutrlj^uo  and  ju^jLjlcrv 
than  patriotism  and  statesmanship,  sustained  chietly 
l»y  tlie  party  spirit  created  by  him  and  ciiLfancd  in 
l)itter  ronti'ntion,  wliile  lie  watrlied  to  turn  the  issuf 
to  Ilia  own  advantage.  The  liistory  for  all  his  jK'Hod 
hears  the  impress  of  this  division  and  strife,  certain 
writers  like  Suarez  y  Navarro  assumhij^  the  defence 
of  tlie  dictator,  while  otliers,  like  Portilla,  Payno, 
Tornal,  and  Filisola,  uphold  the  conduct  of  his  op]>o- 
nents  or  suhordinates. 

The  Iim'shis  of  Minist(>r  I;j;lesias  on  the  Fren<'h  in- 
tervention is  a  disjointed  muss  of  material  hastily 
prepared  in  the  interest  of  the  Juarez  [lartv,  and  full  of 
y'aps,  repetitions,  and  misstatements.  Vi;;;il  and  11  li- 
jar's  account  for  the  same  and  suhsequent  periods  ef 
operations  on  the  west  coast  is  more  complete,  hut  it 
descends  rather  into  a  biography  of  Cileneral  Coroii.i, 
and  is  confusing  and  dull  in  detail  and  style.  Km- 
abler  than  these,  and  more  in  the  stvle  of  Alanian, 
although  with  less  research  and  effort  at  impartiality, 
is  the  }f('jico  of  Arrangoiz,  whose  main  object  is  tn 
defend  the  uphold(TS  of  Maximilian's  empire. 

Ignacio  Alvarez  attempted  a  compnhensive  genoial 
history  of  the  country;  but  while  exhibiting  l>utli 
system  and  symmetry  he  is  superficial  and  biased, 
and  can^less  in  stjdc  as  well  as  statements.  Zania- 
cois  covers  the  same  field  in  a  voluminous  serii  s. 
which  dwindles  however  into  a  mere  feuilleton  his- 
tory, compiled  from  a  few  of  the  most  available  boehs 
on  each  period,  with  evident  haste,  to  the  sacrifici^  ef 
both  uniformity  and  critique,  from  a  Spanish  stand- 
point, and  with  marked  hostility  toward  the  KiigH>Ii 
race.  Tfe  is  indeed  a  Spaniard,  although  long  cnii- 
nected  with  ^Texieo.  His  productions  as  ])oet,  iiovt  I- 
ist,  and  journalist  are  also  <'onspicuous  in  style,  with 
its  tiresome  prolixity,  exaggerations,  and  digressi-ius, 
its  ina])propriate  dramatic  eil'orts  and  flnrid  diction. 

A  superior  historical  method,  combining  considi  rn- 
blo  research,  careful  arrangement,  and  great  faini'  ss, 


TATinOTISM   AND   PAUTISANSHIP. 


r>r)3 


must  be  crcditcil  to  tlie  Jfi'aforift  (h  Yimtfan  of  fJov- 
truor  Ancoua,  vvliich  wliolly  t'clij»sos  any  provincial 
work  of  the  kind  in  Mexico.  It  may  well  siive  as 
a  uKxlol  both  to  writers  in  <;fcneral  aiul  to  tlio  many 
special  state  historians  who  are  now  cndeavorinjjf  to 
cover  a  long  existing  defect,  and  to  supply  material 
for  a  more  thorough  work  (ui  the  repul)lio.  To  this 
Q\n\  servo  also  a  number  of  annals  for  towns,  which 
authors  have  been  led  to  undertake  no  less  from 
family  reasons  tlian  from  an  antici[>ation  of  local 
patronage  connecteil  with  the  district  ])ride  so  stiongly 
developed  ill  Mexico  during  colonial  isolation,  and 
subsequently  during  long  revolutionary  feuds.  }lo- 
iiiero,  (jril,  Rivera,  an<l  (ionzalez  are  among  j)rominent 
local  amialists,  and  Manual  Pay  no,  Esen<lero,  La- 
cimza,  Arroniz,  Biircena,  and  Lerdo  de  Tejada  liguro 
with  credit  as  contributors  to  history.* 

Among   historical  connnentators  who  have  sought 
to  combine  a  review  of  events  with  social  and  politi- 


-al 


cal  science. 


may 


Hi 


)e  named  ironza'jfa 


Cu 


evas  and 


adco 


Ortiz,  both  imbued  with  most  sound  and  liberal  views 
for   the  reg(Mieration   of  their   country,  and    \'ict(»r 


J 


t)SO 


Marti 


nez,  wl'.o  exhibits  greater  profundity,  but 


also  decided  religio-aristocratic  leanings   that  accord 
little  with  progressive  republican  tendencies  around 


hnn. 


The  wide  attention  rouse<l  by  Prescott's  work  on 
A/tec  culture  and  the  con<iuest  served  to  inij)art 
method  to  the  reviving  interest  of  Mexicans  in  these 

>pics,  and  the  forem<»st  scholars  of  the  country,  such 
1,    l^amirez,    Icazbalceta,   ( )rozco  v    I'crra. 


as 


Vl 


imai 


PiiiKMiti'l,  and  Larrain/ar  hastened  to  supitlemeiit  the 
production  by  ])ublisliing  documents,  notes,  and  es- 
says, on  which  much  labor  and  thought  had  heeii  be- 
stowed. Orozco  y  Perra  went  farther  and  I'esolved 
witli  the  liirlit  of  the  lati^st  inv(>sti'j;ations  to  under- 
t  ikc  a  new  (examination  of  the  whole  subject,  includ- 
iii '  tlie  historv  of  the  abori'jrines,  based  more  lar-'clv 
on  their  own  testimony.     Upon  this  task  lu;  couceu- 


^■1 


»=  ■* 


• 


1    ' 

1 1 


ti 


1:1       ! 


D54      LITFJIATUKE  OF  MKXRO-NINIiTKENTlI  t'ENTUKY, 

traU'd  tlm  fruit  of  his  i>rcvi(>us  ivsi nnlicH  (»ii  «;<'nnria. 
pliy,  idioms,  and  p('<)|»lc'S.  TIic  nsult  was  u  work 
W'liicli  tor  cuinprulit'iisivciu'ss  and  value  in  this  rts|)(  ci, 
surpasses  any  native  ollnrt.  Unfortunati'ly  the  aii- 
tli<»r  lias  not  bi'stowed  suflicicnt  care  on  the  arran^-- 
nuMit  and  treatment  of  his  material.  Subjects  .iic 
introduced  without  due  sequinces,  and  at  diH'eniit 
times,  with  repetitions;  the  text  is  burdened  with 
discussions  and  trivialities,  and  the  hitcrest  is  further 
br(»kon  by  needless  stra^•L;lin|^. 

In  this  conniK'tion  niay  be  mentioned  the  ambitious 
work  of  Larrainzar  on  American  ruins,  notably  thnM' 
of  JSIexico,  with  speculations  on  the  t»ri!j;in  of  Indians 
and  their  institutions.  It  certainly  bears  the  evident c 
of  both  learning  and  research,  but  the  descri[»tinns 
and  comparisons  are  hardlv  ever  followed  bv  anv 
original  t)bservatlons  of  value,  an<l  quotations  ami 
[)oints  from  a  vast  array  of  authorities  are  often  intic- 
duccnl  with  little  discriminatiou  as  to  value  or  fitness. 
Indeed,  the  main  effort  of  the  author  ajtjiears  tiirectnl 
to  a  display  of  his  ac(juaintance  with  classic  and  arclia- 
ologic  lore,  and  of  his  turgid  style.* 

Tlui  defects  observable  especially  in  the  last  two 
writers  are  shared  more  or  less  by  almost  all  llieir 
brethren.  It  would  ap})ear  as  if  they  had  still  Intniv 
their  eyes  the  random  chronicles  of  the  intlatinn 
period.  The  real  cause  of  the  fault  lies,  lioWe\t  r, 
in  the  national  impulsiveness,  wliich  chafes  under  thr 
restraint  of  method  and  prolonged  application,  ami 
delights  in  su[)orHcial  gloss.  In  yielding,  therefore, 
to  the  bent  for  imitation,  they  are  a]tt  to  seize  upi'ii 
surface  attraction,  passing  by  blindly  or  impatiently 
the  jH'rvading  i)rinciples,  the  sul)tler  thoughts,  spiiit-. 
harmony,  and  philoso[)]iic  seipience.  (jlenerali/atimi 
and  reHection  exhibit  the  lack  of  system  and  depth  lu 
false  or  im[)erfect  views,  and  where  more  elalMirate 
cH'orts  appear  they  aw  usually  governed  by  a  niatlic- 
matical  adhesion  to  studied  rules  which  fails  to  gri>l> 
the    main   truths.     The  course  of  events  in  j\I(  xii'o 


I'!*:-'  J;  1 


BIOCUAPIIIKS. 


S5S 


seems  to  bo  iiupr(;ssL>(l  ui»<)n  the  style  of  tluir  record. 
Frct-'d  tVoin  the  dcpressiii;^'  sway  and  ctiistirsir^*  of 
c.iloiiial  days,  writers  pressed  forwanl  in  tuiiiulluous 
|iartisan  attacks,  and  in  definee  of  patrons  and  stand- 
aid,  tiie  liberals  and  ronseivatives,  or  cliurcliinon, 
fiiiiiinjj;  tlio  two  principal  bodies.  Ailliesion  to  one 
(if  these  siiles  seems  im[K;rative,  t<t  tlic  sacrificr  of 
truth  and  justice.  Even  Alaman,  so  punctilious  in 
ills  strivintjf  for  impartiality,  stumbles  over  race  and 
(lass  fcelinij;.  Passi<»n,  tiekleni'ss,  and  impatience 
n\(iTule  critical  discrimination  and  treatment,  ami  the 
structure  of  the  lan;_';ua»^c  fav«ns  redundancy  and 
looseness.  Notwithstanding  a  <'ertain  (bamatic  in- 
stinct, striking  e|)is()des  rarely  i-eccive  efl'ective  presen- 
tation, most  attempts  in  this  direction  rel}  ing  on 
timid  tlisplay. 

The  achievement  of  independence  and  tlie  conse- 
((iient  revival  of  local  tiaditions  and  iniieiited  glories, 
with  the  exaltation  of  contempoi'ary  as  well  as  nneieiit 
lejuh'Ts,  gav»,'  impulse  particularly  to  collective  biog- 
ra|»hy.  The  general  strife  for  itolitical  and  military 
I  I'-itions,  and  a  coiispicious  vanity,  tended  in  the  same 
direction.  With  a  change  in  the  taste  which  marked 
the  colonial  ))erio(b  iVom  the  lives  (tfasci-ties  and  mai'- 
tyrs  to  hero  worship,  conc(-'ntrated  on  such  mi'U  as 
Hidalgo,  Iturbide,  and  Juarez,  numerous  followers 
manifested  a  desire  to  share  by  associati»)n  in  the 
lustre  of  their  achiev(>ments. 

The  most  voluminous  wiitors  in  this  bianch  are 
]\Ianuel  liivcra  and  J'^rancisco  Sosa.  T]]v  (idlx  rininlis 
(1<  Mixico  of  th(>  former  is  really  an  account  of  evi'nts 
under  the  rule  of  the  respectivi>  viceioysand  governors. 
full  of  tires()me  detail  massed  with  little  symmetry  or 
judgment,  and  partaking  of  the  other  defects  observ- 
aMe  in  his  l/isforla  <lc  Jdhqxi;  yet  it  fills  a  j»erci'ptible 
,L!;a|..  It  presents  a  contrast  to  the  many  so-calhd 
histories  of  epochs  in  Mexico,  which  are  properly 
biographies  by  i>artisans,  or  disguised  autobiographies. 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

W£ii:.jER  1^  Y.  14580 

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656      LITERATURE  OF  :MEXIC0— NINETEENTH  CENTURY. 


Of  more  general  character  is  the  Biograflas  de  J\fr:ri- 
caiios  Distinguidos  of  Sosa,  which  claims  to  embrac  i' 
prominent  men  in  all  the  liberal  professions,  as  well  us 
statesmen  and  soldiers,  but  the  selection  displays  a 
preference  for  writers,  including  a  host  of  petty  poets, 
notably  of  Yucatan,  to  whom  he  devotes  a  special 
little  volume.  The  sketches  are  mere  outlines  of 
career,  with  little  or  ao  attempt  at  analysis  of  char- 
acter. His  more  pretentious  Episcopado  Mexico  no 
possesses  greater  historic  value  by  devoting  itself  to 
so  influential  a  class  as  the  archbishops  of  a  priest- 
ruled  country,  but  in  treatment  it  is  no  iniprovenient 
upon  the  former,  for  conciseness  is  here  broken  by 
the  introduction  of  petty  detail.' 

Far  superior  to  either  in  careful  selection  and  style 
is  the  Homhrr.9  Ilustrcs,  edited  by  Gallo,  and  written 
by  a  number  of  the  ablest  literary  men  hi  the  republic 
It  falls  largely  into  tame  narrative,  but  several  of  the 
sketches  exhibit  research  as  well  as  study  and  criti(|ti(', 
and  tend  to  lift  the  work  to  the  foremost  rank  in  its 
line.  Among  individual  biographies  tlie  first  place 
must  properly  be  accorded,  by  virtue  of  its  form,  to 
Baz'  Vlda  de  Juarez.  It  does  not  surpass  the  clioice 
articles  in  the  preceding  work;  indeed,  the  delineation 
of  traits,  tlie  study  of  ofl^ect  and  counter-effect  l)ot\vec'ii 
the  man  and  his  acts  and  surroundings,  the  soundiii;^ 
of  tlio  deptlis  in  human  nature,  are  little  consitlered; 
yet  these  are  general  rather  than  personal  short-com- 
ings, and  the  work  remains  one  of  the  best  specimens 
of  extended  efforts  by  Mexicans  hi  a  field  well  occu- 
pied, cliieHy  by  obituary  panegyrics,  marred  by  efloits 
at  rhetorical  displa3^ 

The  church  now  appeals  less  to  biography  ns  a 
means  to  inculcate  devotion.  The  cause  lies  not  alone 
in  the  transition  of  its  members  from  somewhat  pas- 
sive to  more  active  life,  enforced  by  political  cliangos 
and  public  opinion,  but  in  the  suppression  of  monastic 
orders.     The  independence  war  brought  about  a  famil- 


PHILOSOPHY  AND  SCIENCE. 


6S7 


Y  as  a 
t alone 
t  ])as- 

mastic 
taiuil- 


iarity  of  mingling  which  detracted  greatly  from  the 
influence  of  the  clergy.  Sim'lar  was  the  result  of  their 
subsequent  attitude  as  the  chief  promoters  of  the  pro- 
longed patricidal  wars,  in  the  struggle  to  maintain 
control  over  the  masses  and  to  perpetuate  superstitions. 
Their  defeat  and  humiliation  and  the  satiric  abuse  of 
the  liberals  all  tended  to  lower  roliijious  feeliiii;  and 
foster  aniontr  the  men  at  least  a  wide  disregard  for 
ti  >|)ics  once  held  sacred,  and  a  parade  of  atheism.  One 
(Hect  has  been  to  give  a  truer  direction  to  clerical 
labors,  to  pulpit  oratory,  and  to  special  periodicals  and 
tracts.  Tlie  decline  of  pastoral,  mcjral,  and  symbolic 
theology  among  publications  is  due  also  to  a  change 
in  taste  among  the  reading  classes,  under  a  wider 
range  of  topics.  Yet  it  is  to  he  observed  that  among 
notable  writers,  in  the  latter  respects,  figure  promi- 
nently such  political  and  civil  [)ersonagesasBustamante 
and  Mendivil.  Both  uphold  zealously,  in  bulky  pages, 
the  miraculous  appearance  of  the  Guadalupe  virgin 
image,  a  subject  likewise  defended  by  Marin,  Guridi 
and  others,  against  the  growing  skepticism.  This 
tendency  has  not  failed  to  produce  a  change  in  polemic 
('{forts,  from  the  so  exclusive  patristic,  to  a  more  ra- 
tionaliziiio-  method,  wherein  the  utterances  of  Voltaire, 
^[ontesquieu,  and  Chateaubriand  are  freely  used  or 
debated.  The  position  here  held  in  the  preceding 
cciitury  by  men  like  Palafox  and  Alegre  was  prom- 
inently occupied,  among  others,  by  Bishop  Munguia 
of  Michoacan,  whose  defense  of  the  church  against  gov- 
eriunent  encroachment  has  procured  him  no  less  fume 
as  a  champion  than  his  contributions  to  moral  theology 
as  a  thinker,  and  spirited  and  elegant  writer." 

For  their  philosophy  the  jNIexicans  have  as  a  rule 
been  content  with  translations  from  European  writers, 
and  so  with  political  economy.  Synoptical  compila- 
tions are  well  represented,  and  have  assisted  to  guide 
the  numerous  essayists,  prompting  them  also  to  wider 
study  and  to  original  speculations,  as  instanced  in 
Mora's  Libertad  do  Conierclo,  aud  in  Pimeiitel's  article. 


■  ' 
Ml 


ll< 


, 


i 


r 


538      LITERATUKE  OF  MEXICO-NINETEENTH  CENTURY. 

Wliilc  efforts  in  linguistics  have  not  been  so  frequent 
as  before,  with  the  decHne  of  the  rehgious  orders 
they  have  developed  into  the  higher  analytic  and 
comparative  studies  for  which  the  country  presents  so 
vast  a  field.  Herein  the  talented  Gomez  de  la  Cor- 
tina has  distinguished  himself  as  a  prolific  writer, 
and  Pimentel  for  comprehensive  and  admirable  inves- 
tigations. His  Cuadro  received  wide  recognition  as 
one  of  the  most  important  works  on  American  lan- 
guages, and  was  rewarded  with  a  gold  medal  from 
the  Instituto  of  France.  An  admirable  adjunct  to  it 
exists  in  the  Gcngrafia  dc  /«.s'  Lciifjiias  of  Oimzco  y 
Berra,  whoso  varied  contributions  on  geograpliic  and 
statistical  subjects  procured  for  him  much  popularity 
and  honor.  More  numerous  on  these  topics,  and 
marked  by  clearness  and  judgment,  are  the  vvoiks  of 
Garcia  Cubas.  Diaz  Covarrubias  stands  forwartl  as 
tlie  most  prominent  among  Mexican  astronomers; 
his  treatises  in  this  field  and  also  on  geodesy  have 
been  received  as  text-books,  and  commanded  attention 
also  abroad  for  their  new  methods  of  observatitm. 
In  geology  and  botany  Mariano  Bdrcena  has  acliievi d 
for  himself  equal  distinction.  Many  more  are  follow- 
ing in  paths  opened  by  these  men,  to  strive  for  similar 
usefulness  and  success,  and  to  advance  still  furtln  r 
the  honorable  position  acquired  by  Mexico  in  scientific 
circles.  Payno,  Gil,  Hernandez,  and  San  Miuiicl 
fioure  amonir  the  host  of  statistical  workers,  reused 
by  the  precepts  of  the  geographic  society  of  Mexico, 
which  has  also  fostered  the  studv  of  natural  histor\ , 
physics,  and  similar  branches  of  science,  and  in(it( d 
travellers  to  publish  their  observations  for  the  bent  fit 
of  the  home-dwellers.  In  nearly  all  of  these  produc- 
tions however,  there  is  so  far  a  marked  unevenntss, 
with  a  frequent  admixture  of  puerilities  and  entliu- 
siastic  vagary,  while  the  examinations  and  discussions 
are  either  inqierfectly  carried  out  or  lacking  in  deittli; 
but  better  methods  are  gaining  ground. 


FICTION. 


539 


Among  the  paternal  measures  which  characterized 
colonial  regime  was  one  restricting  the  circulation  of 
proso  fiction  as  dangerous  to  the  political  and  nioial  con- 
dition. The  more  mature  folk  in  the  peninsula  might 
indulge  in  works  even  decidedly  loose  and  blas[)liemous, 
but  the  colonists  were  regarded  somewhat  like  chil- 
dren, who  must  be  the  more  closely  guarded  against 
ilio  absorption  of  noxious  ideas,  since  they  'vt  r;j  so 
remote  from  the  controlling  hand  of  the  ruler.  The 
ecclesiastical  powers  were  only  too  eager  to  support 
a  lavv  which  operated  above  all  in  their  interests,  and 
Bishop  Palaft)X  took  active  steps  to  suppress  all 
novels  and  similar  books  that  he  could  find."  Spas- 
modic as  were  these  efforts,  they  served  at  least  to 
iiun'case  the  difficulties  with  which  a  local  as[)irant  in 
tliis  field  would  have  to  contend.  The  taste  for  read- 
ing manifested  toward  the  close  of  the  colonial  period 
ooald  not  fail  to  direct  attention  greatly  to  fiction; 
and  France,  and  Spain,  and  even  England  and  Ger- 
many were  called  upon  to  meet  the  demand.  The 
clergy  continued  to  wage  war  on  the  immoral  publi- 
cations which  flow  freely,  especially  from  France,  and 
prevailed  on  the  ucovernment  to  lend  its  aid.  These 
sources  are  still  so  extensively  drawn  from,  that  Mexi- 
can novelists,  who  may  l)e  said  to  have  come  into 
existence  only  within  the  last  few  decades,  find  com- 
paratively little  encouragement. 

The  most  pretentious  are  historic  novels  by  such 
men  as  Juan  Matoos  and  Riva  Falaclo.  The  ^Saccr- 
ilofa  y  Caudllh  and  Limrgcnfcs  of  the  former  treat  of 
the  independence  struggle,  the  Sacerdote  represent- 
ing Hidalgo,  and  his  Sol  de  Mcvjo  touches  the  French 
intervention.  Palaeio  continues  the  subject  in  his  (\iJ- 
vario  y  Tabor,  closing  with  the  overthrow  of  ^laxi- 
niilian.  The  latter  deals  chiefly  with  the  lower 
classes,  and  introduces  a  number  of  stirrinuf  incidents 
troni  their  life  to  sustain  a  flickering  interest.  Ma- 
toos rises  to  a  higher  social  level,  and  keeps  close  to 
the  military  leaders  who  form  his  heroes ;  but  while 


5G0    LITERATURE    OF    MEXICO-NINETEENTH    CENTURY. 


the  frequent  introduction  of  battles  and  political  af- 
fairs ^ive  a  historic  value  to  the  volumes,  the  nature 
and  ])lacc  of  tiie  digressions  are  such  as  to  interfere 
greatly  witli  the  interest,  although  the  a})peals  to 
patriotic  S3'nipathies  no  doubt  serve  as  c()ni[»ensatioii. 

Lack  of  symnietr}^  cannot  be  coni[)lained  of  in  the 
similar  class  of  novels  by  Ancona,  the  able  histt)riau  of 
Yucatan,  who  lias  also  used  the  romantic  incidents 
culled  during  his  annalistic  researches,  with  such  ef- 
fect as  to  merit  a  reprint  at  Paris  of  two  stories. 
Nevertheless  they  are  somewhat  weighted  by  the 
hand  of  the  journalist  and  investigator,  and  tliis  be- 
comes more  apparent  in  the  idcstiza,  which  differs  from 
the  others  in  relating  to  middle-class  life. 

Far  inferior  to  these  is  Troharra's  Mister ios  de  Chan, 
relating  to  insurrectionary  incidents  in  Yucatan,  which 
represents  a  class  of  novelettes,  disjointed  in  treat- 
ment and  in  style,  and  springing  from  the  brain  of 
feeble  enthusiasts. 

The  Gil  Gomez  of  Covarrubias,  which  covers  the 
same  scenes  as  Mateo's  Saccrdote,  has  a  more  S[)anis]i 
stamp  than  the  preceding,  and  concentrates  its 
strength  rather  upon  love  incidents  ;  the  author  feels 
therefore  at  home  when  treating  of  ordinary  life,  as  in 
La  Clase  Media.  The  tender  passion  is  all-absorbing 
with  Florencio  del  Castillo.  He  leads  indeed  in  sen- 
timent, but  the  sameness  of  mould  in  which  his  hero- 
ines are  cast,  pure  and  sweet,  yet  melancholy,  and  tlio 
general  tinge  of  sadness,  are  apt  to  pall  upon  the 
reader.  He  introduces  absurd  and  broadly  suggest- 
ive climaxes,  as  well  as  strange  and  inappro[)riatc 
phrases,  and  exhibits  other  crudities  hardly  in  accord 
with  the  praise  lavished  by  admirers,  who  call  him 
the  Balzac  of  Mexico.  His  best  work  is  HermutKi  de 
los  Angeles.  Roberto  Esteva's  few  efforts  savor  of  tlic 
same  spirit.  Fernando,  Orozco  y  Berra,  brother  of 
the  archaeologist,  wrote  a  novel  in  the  style  of  Karr, 
which,  like  his  poems,  breathes  the  sorrow  of  disap- 
pointed love,  and  indicates  the  broken  spirit  that  faded 


POETRY. 


661 


iiway  with  the  completion  of  the  volume.  J.  M.  Ka- 
mirt'Z  rt'prt'scnts  a  large  class  of  feuilleton  novelists, 
whose  productions  soklom  pass  into  more  permanent 
form.  Maturer  in  their  aspect  of  life,  and  of  wider 
scope,  are  the  works  of  Jose  de  Cuellar ;  but  while 
marked  by  a  vivacious  flow  the  plot  is  feeble  and  the 
narrative  rambling. 

Nearly  all  the  novels  savor  of  French  models,  in 
style  as  well  as  subject.  Nevertheless,  affairs  of  the 
heart  are  depicted  in  a  more  tender  vein,  a  reverential 
mean  between  the  impassioned  fervor  and  extreme 
suggestiveness  of  the  Gaul.  Indeed,  the  love  scenes 
suipass  any  other  in  attraction  and  power.  They 
txhibit  in  a  marked  degree  the  soft  melancholy  whicli 
so  widely  pervades  the  literature.  The  portrayal  of 
rharacter  is  not  effective,  and  it  declines  either  into 
suiface  delineations,  or  leaves  very  marked  gaps.  In 
tlie  adherence  to  subject  and  the  evolving  of  plot, 
there  is  also  a  neglect  that  mars  otherwise  spirited 
narration.  The  Mexican  is  altogether  too  absorbed 
witli  particular  features  to  maintain  the  necessary 
l);ihuice,  or  attend  to  symmetry.  There  is  a  tendency 
to  apostrophize,  to  indulge  in  vague,  imperfect  pliilos- 
opliizing,  which  is  attributable  partly  to  the  affecta- 
tion and  floridity  impressed  during  the  cuLismo  period, 
and  still  widely  sustained  by  language-structure  and 
lH)i)ular  predilections.  The  dialogues  are  easy  and 
vivacious,  although  stamped  by  the  general  lack  of 
completeness,  of  finish.  From  tliis  it  may  readily  be 
understood  that  the  short  talcs  which  abound  in  j)eri- 
odicals,  signed  by  Pay  no,  Fidel,  Barcena,  atad  others, 
possess  many  excellencies,  from  the  mere  necessity  foi- 
conciseness,  which  favors  the  more  effective  features 
to  tlie  exclusion  of  the  defects  pertaining  to  elabora- 
tion in  larger  and  more  pretentious  works." 

Tlie  close  of  the  colonial  period  forms  in  Mexico  a 
transition  epoch  also  in  poetry,  from  the  revival  of 
classic  models  so  general  toward  the  end  of  the  cen- 

ESSAYS  AND   MiSCRLLANV       36 


:  I 


\A\ 


■^ 


5G2      LITERATURE  OF  MEXKO— NINETEENTH  CENTURY. 

tury,  to  the  liberal  adiriissiou  of  Frencli,  Eiifj;lis]i,  and 
even  Teutonic  literature.  The  clianfje  could  not  fait 
to  prove  beneficial,  for  the  imitation  fostered  by  the 
revival  was  so  slavish  as  to  shackle  the  inia<j:inatl(iii 
and  lianiper  all  effort  at  hulependent  flight.  The 
opening  of  a  wider  field,  and  the  free  entry  of  varied 
types,  gave  opportunity  and  impulses  that  aflecttd 
even  those  who  still  clung  to  the  Latin  masters. 
Spanish  ideas  remained  supreme,  however,  and  duiiiiij; 
the  transition  becomes  apparent  the  influence  of  Mo- 
lendez  and  his  companions,  who  in  the  peninsula  were 
struijgling  to  establish  a  new  school  in  connection 
with  the  philosophic  spirit  then  invading  its  limits. 

Although  the  disorders  of  the  revolution  and  sub- 
sequent republican  regime  were  a  serious  drawhack  to 
the  cultivation  of  letters,  and  ptditical  aspirations  as- 
sisted to  draw  devotees  to  more  absorbing  pursuits, 
nevertheless  poetry,  like  history  and  certain  tjtlur 
branches,  found  herein  fresh  sources  for  ins[)irati(»ii, 
prompted  by  newly  acquired  freedom.  At  times,  in- 
deed, war  and  patriotism  wholly  overshadowed  tlic 
other  sources  for  lyric  efforts,  in  public  and  i>rivatc 
reunions  and  celebrations,  and  in  the  serenade  am] 
cognate  amenities  of  a  peculiar  courtship,  here  fostered 
by  the  seclusion  of  woman.  Foreign  intercourse  gave 
zest  also  to  other  verse,  chiefly  by  presenting  vaiied 
forms  for  study,  since  the  country  itself  provide<l  an 
abundance  of  themes,  and  offered  ever-increasing  en- 
couragement to  writers  through  multiplying  periodi- 
cals and  associations.  While  turning  from  reli!>ious 
topics,  the  foreign  schools  fostered  subjective  and  re- 
flective compositions  in  richer  and  fr:^er  <  ourses,  and 
instilled  a  higher  regard  for  nature. 

In  each  of  the  different  branches  appears  a  special 
revival  or  inaugural  under  successive  leaders,  the  first 
being  lyric  and  descriptive.  The  Laiinists,  heaih  d 
by  Abad,  and  the  G6ngorist-tinged  followers  of  IJuiz 
de  Leon  had  both  to  yield  before  the  new  order  ot 
things,    heralded   by   the   Franciscan    friar  Manuel 


POETRY    AND  THE  DRAMA. 


r>(i3 


y.ivarrcte,  wlio  sliiiu-s  during  the  opcniiijj;  decade  of 
our  century  witli  a  lustre  so  surpassing  as  to  procure 
for  liini  tlic  cognomen  of  the  American  swan.  He 
was  a  native  of  Miclioacan,  born  in  1708,  and  began 
wiiting  at  an  early  period,  but  modesty  restrained 
liim  from  giving  any  poem  to  tlie  public  till  1805, 
and  then  anonymously.  \Vh(>n  on  his  death-bed,  in 
ISO!),  he  burned  a  nund)er  of  his  productions,  includ- 
ing dramas,  it  appears;  but  enough  of  printed  and 
manuscript  pieces  were  gathered  by  Yaldea,  and 
issued  at  Mexico  in  1823  to  make  two  12o  volumes. 
Editions  also  came  out  in  Peru,  and  at  Paris  in  1835, 
while  many  poems  were  reprinted  in  collections. 

His  vast  superiority  over  almost  every  predecessor 
in  New  Spain  is  evident  throughout  his  range  of 
pastorals  and  varied  lyrics.  While  the  first  are  per- 
vaded by  a  light  jocular  vein,  strains  appear  even 
here  of  the  sweet  melancholy  which  stamp  the  greater 
j)art  of  his  productions. 


Cnmo  en  un  ramillete 
Ailviorte  en  esta  obrilla, 
Las  inaa  pruciosas  flores 
Que  los  tienipos  marcliitan 


J  Ay  erlad  halagiiefia! 
Hnyernn  tus  ddicias, 
Sin  ilojarnio  otros  frutos 
Que  punzantcs  espLias. 


His  bucolics  are  least  regarded,  and  justly  so,  for 
tlicrc  fashion  and  imitation  left  the  strongest  mark. 
Although  a  friar  by  profession,  he  was  an  apt  disciple 
of  Anacreon,  though  chaste  tenderness  and  purity 
Itioathe  in  every  line.  His  greatest  power  lies,  how- 
ever, in  religious  and  elegiac  efforts,  which  abound  in 
touching  sentiment  and  rise  occasionally  into  lofty 
imagery. 

In  El  Alma  Privada  de  la  Gloria  he  surrenders 
himself  freely  to  impassioned  monody. 

Melancdlico  vago  por  cl  niundo, 

Conio  liurtando  el  scniblante  i"!  la  alcgrfa, 

Confornies  solo  con  mi  tristo  idea 

Son  tns  li'igubres  sombraa,  tu  profundo 

Silencio,  noche  obscxira ... 

. . . .  i  Eterno  Dios!  de  donde  se  desprende 

Contra  mi  alma  el  raiulal  de  tus  enojos 

Que  en  tu  furor  la  eucieude. 


II  m\ 


i 


i 


504      LITEIIAI'URK  OF  MEXICO    NINETEENTH  CENTUIlY. 


4  Fiillczco  ?  en  el  instanto  mo  pareco 
Quo  el  liei'iiirmo  e'^pectiiciilo  <lol  iiiutulo 
Con  Hcinpiterna  nuulie  He  o.scui'ece. 
Sale  ili'l  liondo  pecho,  cl  nia><  ])rofuii(lo. 
El  ultiinn  HU.spini,  cii  (pie  hui/ada 
Va  mi  alma  a  tn  pru.sencia .... 
Ati'rranla  tiis  ojoh,  y  el  seruno 
Ke.splaiidor  do  tu  rnstni  lo  parece 
Nul)e  (pie  aiiiiiii'ia  rayn  t'oriiiiit.dilo 
Cuando  trucna  el  Oliiiipo  y  ho  enardcce. 

He  has  evkleiitly  read  Young,  as  well  as  Mohmdoz 
and  otlu'iu  His  detects  are  of  the  time  no  less 
than  of  himself,  as  instanced  hy  the  often  inappropriate 
use  of  inythologic  similes.  While  uneven  and  faulty 
in  prosody,  he  is  fluent  and  unaffected.  He  is  sweet 
rather  than  strong  or  profound,  and  the  swan  is  a 
designation  quite  in  keeping  with  his  strain,  and  also 
with  the  change  now  coming  over  the  spirit  of  poetry. 
He  could  rise  to  fiery  vigoi",  however,  as  shown  in  his  cel- 
ebration of  Fernando's  ascent  to  the  throne,  for  which 
he  received  six  prize  medals. 

The  insurrection  begins,  and  servile  loyalty  is  trans- 
formed into  bombastic  patriotism.  Heroes  and  na- 
tional martyrs  take  the  place  of  kings  and  governors; 
fetters  are  cast  off,  and  portals  are  oj^cned  to  liberal 
and  cosnK)pohtan  ideas.  Several  poets  feel  the  impulse 
and  sing  to  the  dawning  era,  notably  Sanchez  de  Ta- 
gle,  who  had  long  remained  loyal,  but  finally  turned 
to  the  new  dominant  power,  hailing  it  in  lofty  odis. 
Satisfied  with  duty  performed,  he  thereupon  sougiit 
the  more  alluring  range  of  erotics;  yet  this  was  hardly 
his  forte.  He  lacks  the  tenderness  of  Navarrete,  and 
displays  a  robust  vivacity  which  hovers  round  surface 
attractions  to  the  neglect  of  the  spiritual  traits.  In 
the  sonnets  he  approaches  Argensola,  and  in  the  more 
exalted  pa3an  which  contains  his  happiest  lines  he  re- 
veals a  study  of  Herrera.     Of  Humboldt  he  writer : 

Aguila  audaz,  que  remontando  el  vuelo 
For  Ids  orbes  de  luz  sin  pausa  giras, 
Y  con  ardiente  celo 
Les  dictaa  leyes  y  obediencia  inspiraa; 
Pesas  de  cada  cual  la  niasa  inmensa, 
La  drbita  encuentraa,  ?a  distanuia  mides. 


r(JKTRY   AND  THE  DliAMA. 


iMQ 


To  God  ho  sinj^s : 

Hajii  tus  jiii's,  el  tieinpo  en  raiulo  vuelo 
J'asa,   iiri'i)ll:iiiil<>  (Iclts/.iialcd  serus  : 

I'liotilan  Vdiii;;  el  .tULlo, 
Y  iiasaii,  y  no  son — iy  tii  ?    Siempre  eres. 

TTis  iiiiitatioit  is  liniitod  to  form,  liowovor,  and  al>ov(^ 
itll  t(»  tli(^  olassic.  Heroin  lio  stands  the  foroniost  ri  p- 
ivsontativo  of  tlio  ccnturv  anion*'  Ids  countrvnuMi, 
jiclmirod  for  cluisto  unattoctod  diction  w-  loss  tlian  for 
vi 'orovis  and  fiorv  inspiration.  Like  Navarrcto  lio 
(onsignod  most  of  liis  pooms  to  tlio  flamos,  butliis  son 
]  ucsorvcd  enough  to  form  two  volumes.  His  death  was 
liiistonod  in  1847,  at  the  ago  of  sixty-six,  l»y  the  United 
States  invasion,  the  doplorahlc  inoidonts  of  which 
struck  deep  into  the  patriotic  soul  of  a  nian  who  had 
fur  several  decades  served  his  country  in  important 
positions,  as  Spanish  rogidor  and  dojiuty,  and  as  re- 
])uhlican  senator  and  governor  for  Michoacan,  his 
native  state. 

(^uintana  Roo,  a  prominent  journalist  and  president 
of  tlio  first  inde[)endont  congress  durir.g  the  revolution, 
ranks  amono-  the  earliest  restorers  of  i^ood  taste  in 
Mexico,  with  his  correct  and  graceful  verse.  A  later 
('X[)onont  of  the  classicism  is  Manuel  Perez  Salazar, 
a  prominent  Pueblan  ;  but  with  less  originality  than 
Taglo,  he  sinks  too  frequently  into  a  cold  formality, 
wliich  has  not  tended  to  gain  favor  for  his  school.  Ho 
('X(H'ls  in  didactic  pieces.  In  the  path  of  Tagle  moved 
also  the  brothers  Lacunza,  es})ocially  Juan,  whose 
early  death  in  1843  cut  short  a  promising  career. 
With  vivid  imagination  he  ccnnbined  a  passionate  ton- 
(loniess  and  sweet  sadness  that  shone  admirably  in  his 
amatory  verses.  Equal  suavity,  but  less  range  of 
fancv,  is  displayed  bv  Francisco  Bocanegra. 

The  influence  of  foreign  intercourse  is  observed  in 
tlu!  departure  inaugurated  by  Rodriguez  Gal  van,  best 
known  as  the  dramatist  who  introduced  the  romantic 
wliool.  His  forte  lies  in  patriotic  appeals,  wherei!i  he 
cxluhits  a  spirited  idealism,  combined  with  a  clear, 
chaste  style,  a  sensitive  delicacy,  and  a  pathos  border- 


\il 


r.CC      LITKRATUltK  OK  MKXICO    NINKTKKXTH  CENTURY. 


ing  on  profouiiil  niclancholy.  Tho  latter  pervades  all 
Ills  verses  to  soino  extent,  reflecting  the  sorrows  and 
disappoititnieiits  of  Lis  curtailed  life.  It  is  particularly 
displayt'd  in  his  Ilutiiou,  which  is  descrihed  as 


•     *     *     Uii  HO])lo  It've 
Que  lii  l<iin|)<'ira  ruaniinr. 
Y  la  apuga. 


K.H  fUiil  n'liiidd  jiliicor 
Que  I  iTcl'uta  a  li  luugur 
Su  hurmasura. 


Rrisa  quo  inocMi  las  (loroM 
Rulniiuliilu.-i   Kus  ()l(ii'u.s 
Y  frcMCura, 

His  translations  from  Lamartine  and  other  French 
writers  are  exceedingly  good.  Galvan  has  been  con- 
sidered as  tho  poet  who  introduced  romanticism  in 
Mexico.  Fernando  Calderon  takes  a  step  further  into 
the  romantic,  and  fairly  revels  in  ideal  creatit)ns  tli.it 
combine  nohle  ardor  with  tender  i)assion.  In  shi'>int> 
to  Aniira,  he  neatly  observes, 

Tub  risas  son  ainores,  Y  amor  es  tu  niirar. 

But  he  is  above  all  efltctivo  in  patriotic  ])ieces,  uniting 
lofty  thcnights  with   fiery  utterance,  and   reaching'  iit 
times  a  vivid  intensity  that  places  him  in  this  li(  kl 
above  any  countryman. 
Glory,  he  (   lis, 


*     *     *    pala1>r<a  sonora, 
Que  repitcii  la  tierra  y  el  cielo, 


Del  sufrido  sDldailo  consuelo, 
Do  los  heriie.s  brillaute  deidail. 


The  Sueno  del  Tirano  is  of  Byronian  strength. 


Del  lecho  se  lanza 
Con  grito  doliente, 
Se  iiiunda  su  frente 
De  frio  sudor. 


Parece  (|ue  escucha 
La  vo/  del  destino, 
Y'  el  tnieiio  divine, 
De  juste  furor. 


Sus  ojos  cansados 
Anlielan  el  Uanto, 
MiiH  nunca  su  cncanto 
I'robo  la  maldad. 


The  rhyme  is  after  Garcilaso.  Among  his  best  lyrir 
and  descriptive  compositions  are  El  ISohktdi)  <li  l<i 
Llbertad,  Los  Recmrdos,  La  Rosa  March  ita,  of  eclectic 
type,  and  El  Porveiiir.  Mdrcos  Arroniz  represmts 
the   ultra-romanticists,   with  a  Byronian   pessimism 


rOETIlY. 


507 


tliij^cd  by  tlio  bittoriK'ss  of  rojectetl  love.     The  novel- 
ist C()vaiTul)la8  iiKluly;t!(l  in  similar  ett'usioiis. 

The  scntiiaoiitalists  have  a  Htiikiiig  expoiioiit  in 
Juan  Valle,  related  to  the  first  president  of  the  re- 
|)ul)lie.  lilind  from  I'arly  boyhood,  he  was,  nevertiie- 
less,  exposed  to  politi<'al  persecution  for  his  ardrnt 
party  spirit,  an<l  had  tlius  a  double  origin  for  his 
pathos.  He  was  essentially  the  poet  of  the  revolu- 
tions, but  indulged  also  in  sacred  and  erotic  verso, 
pure  and  fluent.  His  descriptive  lines  leave  no  defects 
to  indicate  his  affliction.  Tin  l-ve  bard  is  a  co;:;- 
nomen  a[)plied  to  L.  (x.  Oiti'z,  fr  »ni  tin  predominating 
character  of  his  [jieces  in  the  two  \  jiumes  so  far  is- 
sued. The  imagery  is  delicat'  ,  and  fre(juonlly  of  a 
Iiigh  order.  The  soimets  are  admir.nbh  Ortiz  has 
ds')  acquired  reputation  for  translations  and  novels. 
^[.  M.  Flores  is  a  rival  in  his  paitieular  field,  whose 
Hery  invocations,  combined  with  a  certain  originality, 
procured  a  speedy  second  edition  for  his  Paslomtrias 
collection.  Another  contributor  of  great  fecundity  is 
A.  L.  Gallardo,  of  Guanajuato,  the  founder  of  a  S})an- 
isli  journal  in  California,  where  he  died  a  few  years 
ago.  The  three  volumes  issued  by  him,  including 
some  tales,  breathe  the  spirit  of  the  love-stricken 
exile. 

Of  a  different  stamp  are  the  produ«"tions  of  A.  M. 
Ochoa  y  Acuna,  a  priest  by  profession,  and  of  pure 
Spanish  descent,  wliose  best  known  pieces  indicate 
one  of  those  portly,  merry  curates  to  be  found  in 
Hispano-American  country  parishes,  but  who  really 
aj)[)ears  to  have  been  of  a  sedate  temperament,  addicted 
above  all  to  books.  His  extensive  reading  was  dis- 
played in  numerous  translations  from  Latin,  French, 
and  Italian  writers,  which  found  little  appreciation. 
From  his  own  pen  flowed  odes,  sonnets,  satires,  the 
former  altogether  too  'mitative,  with  less  sentiment 
than  piquancy  and  suggestion.  Their  light-tripping 
linos  were  especially  adapted  to  the  satires  and  epi- 
grams on  which  his  fame  mainly  rests,  and  for  which 


568      LITERATURE  OF  MEXICO— NINETEENTH  CENTURY. 


n 


he  stands  unapproached  among  his  countrymen.  In- 
deed, in  many  respects  he  equals  and  even  surpasses 
Gongora  and  Quevedo,  the  foremost  Spaniards  in  this 
field.  He  is  good-natured  and  quizzical  rather  than 
stinging,  free  from  trivialities  as  well  as  personalities, 
and  observes  a  decorum  and  delicacy  that  raised  him 
far  above  Lizardi.  Another  merit  is  the  avoidance, 
both  in  translations  and  compositions,  of  the  gallicism 
wliich  was  corrupting  the  language.  One  instance  of 
his  style  will  suffice : 


A  un  paje  nada  doniiiilo 
Dijo,   uandolu  lui  pajiol, 
Cierta  daiiia:    ve  cim  el 
Y  entr<f'galo  a  mi  (£uorido. 


No  era  la  priiiiera  vez 
Que  il)a  el  paje,  pues  tomd 
El  papel,  y  preguuto: 
Sefiora  iii  eual  de  los  diez? 


Lines  of  five  syllables  are  frequently  used.  Of  tlie 
two  volumes  of  his  poetry  issued  at  New  York  as 
Poc.sias  de  un  Mcjimno,  the  second  is  devoted  to  this 
class.     He  lived  between  1783-1833. 

Satire  comes  readily  to  the  aborigines,  no  less  from 
natural  bent  than  from  the  effect  of  their  enforced 
subordination  for  centuries  to  autocrats  and  castes,  as 
already  observed.  The  cultured  manifestation  of  the 
faculty  has  been  restricted  by  obvious  circumstances, 
but  of  late  years  it  is  finding  more  numerous  ex])()- 
nents.  As  their  leader,  by  virtue  of  pure  Indian  de- 
scent and  seniority,  as  well  as  a  high  order  of  lu'oduo- 
tion,  may  be  placed  Ignacio  Ramirez,  sometime  min- 
ister of  justice  and  public  works,  and  professor  of 
letters,  yet  best  known  for  the  varied  flow  of  liis 
pen  in  prose  and  verse.  Aboriginal  sentiment  seems 
less  amatory  than  that  of  some  of  the  other  races. 
Class  peculiarities  strike  them  most  readily,  and  t(i 
tlie  long-abused  clergy  is  dispensed  a  full  quota  of 
the  banter  and  ridicule  to  which  they  are  ex])os(^(l 
from  all  quarters.  Even  the  most  sacred  of  subjects 
are  no  lonf,er  respected,  and  several  attempts  hnvo 
been  made  in  the  vein  of  Avila  y  Uribe,  who  amonj; 
other  things  wrote  a  comic  versicm  of  the  Guadahi[»e 
miracle,     It  remains  in  manuscript  on  my  shelves. 


ABORIGINAL  EFFORTS. 


569 


In  this  connection  may  be  mentioned  the  droll  and 
su<»"*i'estive  verses  of  Telosforo  liuiz,  who  issued  a  col- 
k'ction  in  186G ;  the  exuberant  Ihies  of  Tidel ;  the  neat 
(■j)igrams  of  Tellez,  mingled  with  equally  attractive 
sonnets  in  his  Rafos  PcrdidoH,  and  the  critical  satires  of 
Zarco,  in  the  spirit  of  Larra.  The  Spanish  residents, 
Zaniacois,  and  Zorrilla,  have  written  much  verse  of 
this  character,  which  is  widely  read  in  Mexico. 

The  observations  so  far  made  apply  very   well  to 

characterize  the  classes  and  styles  of  poetry  among 

modern  Mexicans.     In  more  ambitious  compositions 

thiy  have  as  a  rule  been  content  with   translations  of 

some  ancient  and  modern  classics.     Yet  e})ics  liave 

heiii  attempted,  the  most  })retentious  being  the  Aitu- 

hiKicof  Kodiguez  y  Cos,  which  treats  of  the  conquest, 

a  sul)ject  that  should  have  allured  more  writers  amid 

tlie  reviving  enthusiasm  for  aboriginal  prestioe.     The 

[locm  is  in  heroic  quatrains  with  asonantes  of  a  more 

sedate  tone  than  that  of  Kuiz  de   Leon,  a   century 

Into  re,  and    reveals   indeed    less    spirit   and    ability. 

I'ortraiture    is    hardly    attempted,    scenery    is   little 

noticed,  and  dramatic  op}iortunities  neglected.     While 

l\uiz   sums  the  achievements  of  Cortes,   Rodriijuez 

seeks  to  connnemorate  the  glories  of  ]\[ontezuma  ond 

(^)uuulitemotzin,and  to  this  end  he  warps  and  colors  an 

otherwise  close  adherence  to  historic  narrative.     The 

tiiirteen  cantos,  of  about  ten  thousand  lines,  were  pub- 

lislii-d  at  Mexico  in  18.5,3,  and  dedicated  with  profuse 

coinplinioits  to  Santa  Anna,  the  dictator. 

Turning  from  him  to  Jose  Joaquin  Pesado,  whom 
We  have  met  in  history  as  senator  and  minister,  we 
find  a  poet,  who,  in  La  Rnrlariini,  dis[)lays  a  lofty 
Sentiment  and  a  beautiful  imaircrv  that  rouse  our 
liiu'liest  admiration.  Unfortunately  the  cantos  prove 
ti>  be  in  subject  as  well  as  form  an  imitation  of  Dante's 
fiifrriio.  The  horrors  of  the  doomed,  and  bliss  of 
tlie  angels  are  successively  pictured,  and  even  a  Bca- 
trire  is  fo\uul  in  T]lisa,  only  to  reveal  by  comjmrison 
liuw  far  behind  the  model  are  these  verses  iu  soaring 


570      LITERATURE  OF  MEXICO-NINETEENTH  CENTURY. 

grandeur,  in  penetration  and  feeling.     Borne  by  an 
antrcl  to  the  internal  regions  he  sees : 

La  interrunipida  luz,  fiinclire,  escasa, 
l^e  uu  fiiego  suhtfrruiieo  4110  li  lc>    lejos 
Uii  moiite    iiimeiiso  retumhiuulo  abrasa, 
Eiitre  iiicve.s   laii/^udo  sus  rctlejon, 
El  rastro  aluiiiln-a,   de  la  barca  pasa: 
At(;nit()s  iiiiM  ojos  y  yurplejos 
Veil  las  olas  rodar,   correr  los  iiioutea, 
Y  eusaiicharae  loa  negros  Uorizoutes. 

The  blessed  dwell 

en  sombrosas  selva.s  dilatadas, 

Auras  serenas  y  corrieiite.s  (iiiras, 

Moraii  aquesas  almas,  eiitrt'gadas 

l)e  liuinaiia  ciencia  a  mciertas  eongeturas: 

Hablau  lie  las  edades  ya  paaadas, 

De  laa  horas  presented  y  futuras. 

Better  known  from  the  nature  of  the  topic,  is  tlie 
lyric  descriptive  potnn  Im  Jerusalem,,  in  nine  parts,  the 
earlier  centering  in  the  career  of  Jesus,  the  later  treat- 
ing of  the  subsequent  vicissitudes  of  the  city.  Tlio 
evident  suggestions  from  Tasso  assist  to  unfold  the 
many  beauties  which  have  procured  for  the  piece  so 
wide  an  appreciation.  Translations  of  Petrarch  have 
also  left  their  impress  on  Pesado,  yet  his  sonnets  bear 
more  distinctly  the  touch  of  Garcilaso.  In  erotic" 
pieces  he  is  reverential,  and  his  pictures  of  nature 
have  a  dreamy  beauty,  both  features  forming  tlie 
main  cliaracteristics  of  his  unquestionably  sweet  and 
graceful  verse. 

Whatever  the  objections  to  his  bent  for  imita- 
tion, he  has  performed  thereby  a  service  of  gicat 
value  to  his  countrymen  in  pointing  out  the  hcst 
features  of  a  variety  of  models  and  infusing  a  su))oi  ior 
taste.  Although  reaching  the  highest  elevation  in 
religious  topics,  marked  by  pure  idealism,  the  greattst 
credit  should  be  accorded  to  him  for  his  eflbrts  on  na- 
tional themes,  on  scenes  and  sites,  and  in  the  elabora- 
tion of  aboriginal  lore,  as  in  Ims  Aztecas,  wherein  lie 
strives  to  preserve  the  native  spirit.  He  stands  tlie 
representative  eclectic  poet  of  Mexico,  in  ap[)lyiiig  the 


IMITATIONS  AND  TRANSLATIONS. 


571 


classic  form  to  the  best  features  of  roinanticlsni.  His 
works  received  the  coiiipHmeiit  of  several  editions,  be- 
ginning ill  1831),  and  of  recognition  also  in  Spain, 
whence  many  honors  were  conferred  upon  him.  . 

Imitations  of  Dante  and  Milton  are  observable  also 
in  the  epic  production  of  La  Voiula  del  Espiritit 
Scntfo,  by  Francisco  Ortega,  but  with  less  happy 
results,  for  the  verses  are  weighted  with  a  tiresome 
formality  except  for  a  few  occasional  episodes.  In 
tliu  minor  pieces  issued  in  1839  under  the  title  Po(?s?'«.'^, 
Leon  appears  a  conspicious  model.  Color  and  feeling 
seem  however  to  be  subordinated  to  prosody,  which  he 
illustrated  by  example  and  by  special  treatises. 

Unevenness  and  irretjular  diveroence  are  the  rule 
rather  than  exception.  In  some  imitation  dims  the 
lustre  of  at  first  strikhig  passages;  others  in  striving 
for  originality  mar  the  picture  by  defective  plan,  bald 
or  over-wrought  portrayal,  and  inappropriate  similes. 
Neglect  of  form  has  overshadowed  many  spirited  es- 
says, but,  with  the  naturally  imitative  tendency  m 
the  people,  still  more  have  been  borne  down  by  too 
close  study  of  models,  which  has  fettered  inspiration 
and  neutralized  other  higher  purposes.  Tiiis  is  ob- 
servable in  Franco  and  Lafragua,  who  conform  closelj' 
to  the  severe  quintana,  and  in  Diaz,  of  Jalapa, 
whose  patriotism  led  him  first  to  a  distinguished  mili- 
tary career,  and  subse(]uently  to  the  commemoi'ation 
of  historic  incidents  and  legends,  so  much  so  that  he 
is  widely  regarded  as  the  leading  poet  romancer  of 
Mexico.  Others  accord  this  position  to  Peon  y  Con- 
treras,  a  doctor  and  senator  of  Yucatan.  His  Ho- 
iiKtiicfS  HisforiroH  are  modelled  after  Duque  de  llivas, 
hut  while  inferior  in  form  they  fully  etpial  his  in 
Inilliancy,  in  description  and  metaphor,  witli  an  ap- 
propriate change  of  versification  to  suit  the  theme. 
His  lyrics  received  the  compliment  of  a  reissue.  P. 
Avaos,  of  the  same  state,  has  achieved  a  certain  repu- 
tation in  the  same  field  for  traditions  and  fabh^s. 

Uoa   Barcena   figures    prominently      in      historic 


4 


•ii. 


572      LITERATUEE  OF  MEXICO— NINETEENTH  CENTURY, 


themes,  chiefly  from  Aztec  sources.  Although  re- 
hoved  by  occasional  flashes,  his  verse  evinces  a  neglect 
of  the  finest  opportunities  for  description  and  patJios. 
Similarly  defective,  and  faulty  in  form,  is  the  volume 
of  lyrics  which  preceded  his  legends. 

Castillo  y  Lanzas,  Arango,  Jose  Segura,  Busto, 
and  Alcaraz  are  best  known  for  translations,  fioni 
which  they  have  borrowed  the  characteristics  of  their 
original  poems.  Alcaraz  shows  himself  an  a[)t  stu- 
dent of  Byron  in  his  rich  oriental  tints  that  accord 
so  well  with  Spanish  expressit)n,  forming  indeed 
a  part  thereof  ever  since  romancists  followed  the 
cross  mU)  the  crescent  precincts  of  Andalucia.  Luis 
de  la  Bosa  approaches  him  in  coloring,  but  lacks  in 
strength. 

Jose  Segura  left  some  neat  sonnets  and  hexameters, 
but  his  brother  Vicente  reveals  gi'eater  promise  in 
the  freshness  of  his  few  contributions.  Barbacero 
made  a  pretentious  tran«lation  into  verse  of  Chateau- 
briand's Martyrs.  Castillo  published  a  small  volume, 
half  of  it  translations,  half  mediocre  lyrics. 

In  contrast  to  these  more  modeled  productions  may 
be  placed  those  of  Guillermo  Brieto,  Felix  Escalante, 
and  the  Yucatan  poet  Ali)uche,  who  display  less  re- 
straint and  carry  the  reader  along  with  their  stroiiii 
impulsivness.  The  last  excels  in  the  fiery  ardor  el' 
love,  and  Brieto  in  patriotic  zeal,  while  Alpuche  com- 
bines both  features  in  somewhat  thundering  periods 
and  pa.s.sionate  appeals.  B.  Tovar  indulges  in  social 
istic  strain,  and  Aga})ito  Silva  arrays  himself  as  tlif 
champion  of  the  laboring  class.  They  are  uneven,  as 
may  be  supposed,  and  a  few  brilliant  flashes  are  inti  i- 
spersed  with  much  crude  and  commonplace  matter. 
This  ajtpliesalsoto  Jose  de  Cuellar,  Emilio  Bey,  (jial- 
lardo  and  even  to  Sariilana,  who  shows  consideralilf 
feeliuii",  but  as  a  rule  is  like  all  the  rest  continualK' 
on  the  verge  of  something  pronnsing,  without  realiz- 
ing the  expectation  roused.  Miran  ajipears  to  lia\e 
read  Ossian,  Gavarni  indicates  a  taste  for  portraits, 


REIJGIOUS  POETRY. 


573 


Couto  showis  a  curbed  enthusiasm,  and  the  mysticism 
ao  dear  to  native  fancy  is  embraced  by  the  priests 
Martinez  and  Sartorio.  The  latter  belongs  to  the 
revolutionary  period,  and  may  be  classed  as  a  repre- 
sentative versifier,  in  whom  a  pious  adoration  of  the 
virgin  could  alone  infuse  a  scintillating  spark. 

Yucatan  has  been  comparatively  piolific  in  writers 
of  no  mean  order,  although  they  are  little  heard  of. 
By  the  side  of  Apulche  figure  lldefonso  J^eicz, 
NEontero,  Peraza,  Iruzillo,  Estrada,  and  Zorrilla, 
wliose  versos  have  a  rather  formal  stamp. 

The  Spanish  Zorilla  finds  an  apt  follower  in  P.  J, 
Perez,  who  yields  in  soaring  metaphor  to  an  ardent 
patriotism.  Aznar  Barbachano  sings  in  tearful  ac- 
cents; Aldana  has  achieved  recognition  for  fanciful 
oinbellishment;  and  Justo  Sierra  is  a  jiroinising  poet, 
wlio  made  liis  first  mark  by  introducing  the causcrie 
r<^lumn  in  Mexican  journals. 

Notwithstanding  the  excellencies  of  several  among 
tlic  preceding  writers,  the  rank  of  favorite  poet  nmst 
he  assigned  to  Manuel  Carpio.    By  some  he  is  esteemed 
MS  the  representative  in  sacred  themes,  by  virtue  of 
his  own  devotion,  of  the  character  of  his  more  preten- 
tious pieces,  notably  in  honor  of  the  virgin,  and  of  a 
inaiked  de<j:ree  of  ori«»iiuility.     A  closer  aiialvsis  re- 
veals  many  defects.     The  epic  verse  is  faulty  in  plan 
and  proportion,  as   instanced  particularly  in  La  Iin- 
niticnlada  Conrepciou.     At  some  of  tlie  most  interest- 
ii)g  points  of  portrayal  or  retle(;tion  he  hastens  onwanl 
ahruptly,   to  dilate  instead    on    less    striking    ])hases. 
There  is  also  a  repetition  of  imagery  with  slight  varia- 
tion of  form,  and  some  glaring  ])rosaicisms.     These 
disappointments  of  expectation,  and  lapses,  are  not  in- 
tVcipient.     Yet  they  are  here  to  be  ascribed  less  to  un- 
sustahied  power  and  resources  than  to  vagarious  taste 
and  impulsiveness,  and  to  lack  of  appreciation  for  sym- 
111' try,  all  short-comings  of  a  national  rather  than  in- 
<li\  idual  stamp.     Com])ared  with  those  of  liis  confreres 
the  flippancies  are  therefore  not  serious,  and  they  are 


M '  1^ 


i':'      I. 


S:M 


■i:l: 


574      LITERATURE  OF  MEXICO-NIXETEENTII  CENTURY. 

fully  balanced  by  the  truer  poetic  ring  of  the  lines,  the 
uuaH'ected  flow  of  diction. 

The  forte  of  Carpio,  however,  lies  properly  in  de- 
scriptive poetry.  Herein  he  occujiics  undoubtedly 
the  representative  place.  While  impressed  by  the 
solemnity  of  religion  and  its  sublime  adjuncts,  lie 
finds  his  real  inspiration  in  the  grandeur  and  beauty 
of  nature.  He  beholds  the  splendor  of  spheres,  lie 
recognizes  the  majesty  of  towering  [)eaks,  he  delij^hts 
in  the  variegated  aspect  of  pastoral  scenes,  he  feels 
the  desolation  of  the  ruin. 

In  La  Inmensidad  de  Dins  he  writes : 

Asi,  l)io3  sublime,  tii  llenaa  los  mundos 
De  nil  lado  hasta  el  otro  del  gran  finiiamento, 
Y  inny  mas  arritia  so  elova  tu  asicuto, 
Adoude  no  llegau  los  rayoa  del  sol. 

He  seeks  evidence  of  the  creator  in  all  the  panora- 
mic phases  of  nature  till  he  reaches  the  flower  in  the 
field. 

Pasada  la  lliivia  se  alogra  la  yerba, 

Y  al  aire  se  mueve  su  tallo  florido, 

Y  cu  tauto  mis  ojos  te  ven  escoudido 
Alia  eiitre  las  liojas  de  la  hilmcda  Uor. 

In  this  class  of  composition  the  blots  mentioned  are 
less  ol)trusive.  Here  his  soul  revels  in  unrestrained 
ease,  with  oft-surprising  maintenance  of  power.  It 
becomes  apparent  that  the  descriptive  passages  in  liis 
sacred  verse  are  the  chief  props  and  attractions;  that 
the  abstract  was  imposed  upon  him  by  piety  ratlicr 
than  innate  disposition.  He  is  an  olyective  rather  than 
subjective  writer,  excelling  in  observation  rather  than 
reflection,  and  surpassing  in  certain  loftier  topics  the 
celebrated  Heredia,  a  Cuban  exile  long  associated  with 
Mexican  affairs.  Here  is  also  more  conspicuous  the 
influence  of  his  classic  studies,  in  the  admirable  e<\m- 
poise  of  diction  which  eschews  floridity  and  seeks 
adornment  in  bright  traceries  of  fancy — a  combinatien 
of  simplicity  and  elegance  in  accord  with  true  poetic 
instinct.  He  delights  in  vigorous  utterance,  as  ilhis- 
trated  partly  in  the  consonant  rhyme,  yet  abhors  ex- 


WOMAN. 


:/o 


a<;geration  no  less  than  artificiality,  as  instanced  in  his 
( pigrani  on  frenetic  writers. 

Este  drama  si  estA  Imcno, 
Hay  eii  el  inoiij.i.s,  .soldailos, 
Locus,  allilllH^4,  ahiirciuloH, 

Bt:l)l!(lorfS  llu   VlMU'llO, 

I  unuij  cuuntus  ikgollados. 

In  lighter  verse  lie  is  less  at  home.  The  tender- 
ness of"  L*etrarch  and  the  ijrace  of  Aiiacreon  hotli  iail 
to  appear,  and  the  more  evident  imitation  sinks  into 
commonplace. 

Born  at  Cosamaloapan,  in  Vera  Cruz,  1791,  the  son 
of  a  Spanish  trader  and  his  onsole  wife,  he  studied  Hist 
at  Puebla  and  then  at  ISlexieo,  where  he  afterward 
acquired  a  high  reputation  as  doctor.  He  long  held 
the  chair  of  physiology  and  hygiene  at  the  ca,|)ital, 
and  while  in  congress  was  elected  speaker  of  the 
lioiise.  Archielogy,  classics,  a'ld  theology  were  the 
favorite  pursuits  of  this  eager  student,  and  several  lit- 
erary and  scientific  societies  enrolled  his  name.  Not 
till  after  passing  his  fortieth  year  did  he  give  any 
productions  to  the  public,  the  first  being  in  honor  of 
the  virgin.  After  this  he  became  a  fretiuiiit  contri- 
butor to  the  journals,  and  to  S(Mne  books.  If  is  ])icces 
Were  collected  and  published  under  the  auspices  of 
Pesado  and  Couto,  and  received  more  than  one  re- 
print.    He  died  in  1800. 

While  endowed  with  relatively  stronger  mind  than 
liiT  I'^uropean  sisters,  woman  in  Mexico  has  been  ke|)t 
iiKiie  in  the  backsxround  under  the  duenna  svstetn, 
wiiich  stifles  her  budding  voutli,  and  leaves  her  ever 
after  unfit  to  encounter  the  responsibilities  of  life. 
The  modesty  and  gentle  sense  of  tlu;  creole  women 
ivci'  prompt  them  to  accoid  preeminence  to  their 
In^vls,  who  accept  the  concession  with  conceited  self- 
assurance.  With  spreading  education  and  iidusion 
of  liberal  ideas  from  the  adjoining  repul)lic,  woman  is 
ltcL!,inning  to  understand  and  exert  her  ability  under 
the  guidance  of  an  able  group  of  leaders. 


57G      LITEBATURE  OF  MEXICO- NINETEENTH  CEXTURY. 

Among  these  stand  prominent  Ester  Ta[)ia  tic 
Castelianos,  of  Michoacan,  a  lyric  poetess  of  no  mejui 
order,  far  superior  to  tliu  Jiverage  of  pretentious  and 
better-known  singers  of  the  other  sex,  and  uliosi' 
wortli  nmst  in  time  raise  lier  nearer  to  tlie  elevation 
to  which  she  is  entitled.  Her  Florcs  tSllvcstrc.^,  issued 
in  1871,  commanded  attention  in  so  many  quarters  as 
to  encourage  the  publication  some  years  later  of  ('an- 
ticos  de  los  Ninos,  a  theme  a})propriate  for  the  woniaii 
as  well  as  mother,  and  promising  to  add  popularity  if 
not  higher  fame.  Her  lines  have  smoothness  of  tiow 
markedly  in  contrast  to  t)ie  connnon  impulsivcnci-s 
aiid  exaggeration,  and  her  pictures  are  refreshingly 
j)ure  'ind  daintily  delicate.  Her's  is  no  slavish  imit.i- 
tion  ;  images  form  in  natural  and  appropriate  ordc  i-. 
and  while  not  soaring  to  the  sublime,  they  reflect  dtcp 
feeling  and  emotion  hidden  from  ruder  eyes.  She  is 
essentially  chaste,  and  happy  conceits  dance  along  in 
graceful  rhythm.  In  answer  to  a  child's  que.slidii 
what  is  fatherland  ?   she  answers  : 


....esc   nonil)re  adnrado, 
Es  luanantial  ile  eiiidcicnies; 
E-i  lo  que  hay  mas  vcnerailo, 
Es  un  conjtxnto  sagrado 
De  recuerdos  e  ilu-siimes. 

She  finds  it   in  the  air  and  soil,  hi   hearths  and 
temples. 

Es  la  brim  perfumada 
Que  niece  las  fre.scas  Hores 
Eh  la  ribera  cncautada, 
I)o  la  rosa  nacarada 
Luce  ufaua  sus  colores. 

She  thus  neatly  compares  the  humming-bird  witli 
love  : 


Es  inconstante 
Cuanto  es  liermoso; 
Vi-i  cns^atSoso 
Cual  la  iluHion. 


La  grata  esencia 
Se  va  robando, 
Y  va  volando 
Como  el  amor. 


In  this  tripping  metre  she  succeeds  admirably. 
Among  aspiring  contemporary  women  may  be  mcc 
tioned  G.  I.  Zavala  and  R.  C.  Gutierrez  of  Yucatan, 


DRAMATIC   WRITERS. 


C77 


7\rcsa  Vera  of  Tabaseo,  and  Dolores  Guerrero  of 
Duraiigo,  died  botli  at  un  early  a^e  after  leaviiiijj  fugi- 
tive [)iec('8  of  the  most  iJroinisiiig'  nature,  eliicHy  ele- 
<j:\m'.     Guerrero  has  been  compared  to  the  Mexiean 

nun. 

The  condition  of  afitiirs  is  not  favorable  to  dramatic 
art  in  a  country  with  a  decided  jtredilection  for  balls, 
parties,  and  similar  gathering's  of  an  actively  partici- 
pative rather  than  auditorial  character;  where  there 
are  few  towns  populous  enough  to  su[)[)ort  theatres, 
and  where  managers  find  for  their  infrequciut  pcr- 
lonnances  ample  and  cheap  recourse  in  Spanish 
iliiiuiMs,  or  in  translations,  efsjiecially  from  the  sym|>a- 
tlictic  French,  of  pieces  whose  fame  abroad  had  roust-d 
a  general  desire  for  local  ])resentation.  In  the  face  of 
siu  li  imposing  competition  for  the  meagre  opening  at 
liaiid,  there  is  little  encouragement  for  native  phiy- 
wrights.  Nevertheless,  considerable  numbers  have 
crnppcd  up,  stimulated  by  literary  and  dramatic  asso- 
ciations, and  content  with  the  applause  of  friends  at 
tlir  rare  and  crude  [)roduction  of  their  efforts.  Among 
the  names,  three  liave  risen  to  distinction.  Foremost 
stands  Manuel  Eduardo  de  Gorostiza,  the  restorer  of 
\m  art  in  Mexico,  as  the  first  to  write  good  comeilies 
after  the  decline,  and  who  raid^s  with  the  leading 
dramatists  of  his  time  in  Sjianish  literature.  He 
Was  l)orn  at  Vera  Cruz,  where  his  father  was  governor, 
on  account  of  wlu.se  J.eath  he  was  taken  to  Spain  at 
an  early  age.  His  brother  induced  him  to  adoj)t  tlie 
military  profession,  and  he  attauied  the  rank  of  a 
ru'uteuant-colonel  ;  but  in  1823  we  find  him  an  exile 
in  England.  His  talents  and  liberal  ideas  had  at- 
tracted the  attention  of  Mexico,  and  henceforth  until 
Iiis  death,  in  1851,  at  the  age  of  sixty-two,  lie  is  con- 
nected wholly  with  his  natal  country,  as  foreign  min- 
ister, and  in  other  exalted  positions.  He  served  in 
tlic  war  against  the  United  States,  and  being  taken 
prisoner  at  Churubusco.  was  treated  bv  the  victors 

Essays  and  Misckllany     u" 


■ii:  .il 


'im 


ii 


?! 


ll 


|: 


578     LITKUATURE  OF  MEXICO- NINin'KKNTlI  CENTUKY. 

witli  both  kindness  and  respect.  He  can  tlu'ief'oio 
be  claimed  as  a  Mexican  as  fully  as  his  ^reat  jircde- 
ccHsor,  Alarcon.  The  draujatic  histinct  was  iiiiiiitr. 
tor  lie  hcLj-an  to  write  in  hovhood,  but  achieve<l  fame 
oidy  after  1815  with  his  IiuhiUjoicia  jKim  Tatlos,  a 
C(Mnedy  wherein  a  sprightly  fiancee  entra})S  her  be- 
trothed into  several  sc)a})es,  and  proves  to  the  joy  of 
all  that  he  is  by  no  means  the  spiritless  and  insijtidly 
virtuous  man  painted  by  reputation.  The  most  strik- 
ing incident  is  the  whming  of  his  love  by  the  bride  in 
an  assumed  character,  which  results  in  a  sham  dutl 
with  h  r  brother.  Coiiiiijo  Pan  y  Ccbolla,  from  wliidi 
Scribe  borrowed  one  of  his  successes,  is  even  superini- 
to  this,  and  El  A)ni(jo  I)ifiiii(t,  Don  JJicynito,  and  others 
in  verse  and  prose,  sustained  both  his  popularity  and 
merit  as  a  writer.  The  subjects  belong  to  the  middle 
class  of  life,  and  reveal  an  intimate  knowledge  of  soci- 
ety and  human  nature,  depicted  with  nmch  humor  and 
neat  raillery,  yet  with  great  purity  of  tone  and  Inn- 
guage.  He  rearranged  several  works  of  others,  and 
translated  a  nundier  of  French  dramatic  coni})ositioiis. 
(iorostiza  must  be  placed  by  tlie  side  of  Moratin  tlio 
younger,  to  whose  school  of  jVIoliere's  type  he  beloiit;s, 
but  whom  he  surpasses  in  spirit  if  not  in  sentiment, 
thus  aiding  essentially  to  promote  a  taste  for  tli(> 
classic  elements  with  which  it  was  sought  to  remodol 
the  drama.  Besides  special  publications,  a  collection 
of  his  early  works  a])peared  at  Brussels  in  IHiT),  in 
two  volumes,  and  a  immber  of  select  pieces  have  hcin 
reprinted  in  such  publications  as  Bibliofcca  McxinuKi, 
Mexico,  1851.  His  plots  are  ingenious,  and  the  use 
of  different  metre  to  suit  the  varying  action  atlds  to 
the  animation. 

Close  to  Gorostiza  as  dramatic  restorer  or  initiator 
must  be  placed  Ignacio  Rodriguez  Galvan,  alnady 
spoken  of  in  connection  with  the  romantic  school  of 
poetry,  to  whom  is  credited  the  introduction  of  mod- 
ern drama  into  Mexico.  He,  himself,  lays  claim  t<) 
Midioz,  Visitador  de  Mejico,  as  the  first  original  ^Mexi- 


THE  nilAMA. 


670 


can  profluotioii  in  this  field.  It  was  presented  at  tlie 
capital  in  18;{K,  midst  i^reat  applause,  as  the  first 
national  historic  dramatization.  The  suhjert  is  the 
amorous  infatuation  of  the  infamous  Munoz,  who  held 
sway  over  New  Spain  in  1507.  The  woman  scorns 
his  advances,  and  in  his  fury  he  cau.ses  the  object  of 
her  love  to  be  slain ;  she  falls  dead  upon  the  coij)se. 

In  the  effort  to  depict  the  tyrant,  the  author  j^oes 
to  an  extreme  that  becomes  monotonous ;  neverthe- 
less, there  is  a  number  of  fine  and  strontij  passages, 
which  indicate  an  exalted  imaij^i nation,  while  the  ac- 
cessory figures  and  dialogues  show  a  due  appreciation 
foi-  ett'ect.  Kl  Privmh)  del  Virey,  also  taken  fi-om 
early  colonial  history,  and  publislied  four  years  later, 
is  not  so  strong.  While  imbued  with  romanticism, 
(Jalvan  tempered  it  by  a  close  study  of  Alarcon,  to 
liim  the  supreme  master  in  the  art,  as  he  declares  in 
a  dedication  to  this  ])ersonage  written  in  exaggerate*! 
imitation  of  old  Spanish.  The  defects  are  to  be  at- 
tribute:^ to  inmiaturity  of  age  and  training.  Curbed 
ambition  and  disappointments  had  tinged  his  sjtirit 
with  the  melancholy  observable  in  nearly  all  his  works. 
He  had  struggled  since  boyhood  for  a  humble  exist- 
ence in  the  book-store  of  his  uncle  at  ^Mexico,  devot- 
ing the  late  hours  of  night  to  study.  In  \H42  he 
received  a  tardy  recognition  in  an  aj)pointment  with 
a  legation  to  South  America,  but  died  of  yellow  fever 
on  the  way,  at  the  age  of  twenty-six,  in  the  midst  of 
the  most  brilliant  promise. 

In  this  connection  mav  be  noted  Bocanci^ra's  IV/.sro 
Xiuiez,  which  appears  to  have  been  influenced  to  some 
cxti'nt  by  Galvan's  ])ieces,  and  Evvariianoii  Jiosas  by 
Pablo  Yillascnor,  relating  to  the  defence  of  !Mescala 
thuing  the  revolution.  The  latter  is  cruder,  with  not 
sufficient  spirit  in  incident  and  language  to  sustain 
it.  It  was  well  received  at  Guadalajara  in  i8.51, 
despite  the  temperate  treatment  of  the  Spanish     "je. 

Francisco  Ortega,  the  poet,  wrote  as  early  as  1821. 
M''}ico  Libre,  a  drama  celebrating  the  acquisition   -jf 


m 


:.H0     I.ITKIIATIIKK  OF   MKXH'O  -NIXKTKFA'TH   (KNTUIIV, 


i:l 


iiKlcpcndciirc,  arnl  wliicli  ij)  a  inonsurc  sets  asitic  the 
(Iiliii  of  (Jalvaii  to  priority  in  this  (liri'ctioii.  Il(! 
lift  anotlu'r  historit;  |)ioc'o,  Vamnlzin,  rdatiiij^  to  tlir 
cniHlucsts,  and  also  a  coMMMly.  'I'lu;  sanic  cpocli  as  in 
Mrjico  IJhrc  is  toudied  in  Sarinana's  E)itr(ul<i  Tr'niiiful 
th  flnrhiilr,  hut  it  hicks  dramatic  art,  and  is  rcinarkalilc 
rath(>r  as  a  pooin  iinhucd  with  the  well-known  rciliip.r 
of  tlu!  writer.  Ochoa  had  also  appeared  in  this  fii  U 
with  a  trajijody  and  two  comedies,  oiio  of  these  in  lii-^ 
humorous  V(Mn.  A  short  piece  by  Gonzalez  Castio 
reveals  ])romisinf]j  lines  in  the  same  voin,  directtd 
a^jfainst  ])olitiral  parties. 

The  work  begun  hy  (Jialvau  was  taken  up  most  suc- 
cessfully hy  Fernando  (^alderon  y  Beltran.  who  p(  i- 
fected  the  modern  drama,  althouj^h  not  from  national 
suhjeets,  hut  fi'om  sources  more  suited  to  his  romantic 
ideas.  To  this  he  aj)plied  sucli  inspiration  and  fiuisli, 
in  addition  to  a  prolific  proiluction,  as  to  assume  rank 
as  leading  dramatist  of  the  republic,  that  is,  ajiait 
from  comedy,  for  lierein  (lorostiza  enjoys  the  undis- 
puted preeminence.  His  neglect  of  local  topics  is  nut 
to  be  expected  of  a  man  who  has  taken  so  active  a 
part  in  public  life.  As  an  enthusiastic  liberal  ho  joiiidl 
in  revolutions  at  the  expense  of  his  liealth  and  estate, 
(>xiled  as  he  was  both  from  his  native  city  of  Guada- 
lajara and  from  Zacateeas,  his  adopted  state,  j'ai- 
doned  in  consideration  of  his  genius,  he  here  enten d 
anew  into  the  political  arena,  figuring  as  deputy,  magis- 
trate, and  other  positions  suited  to  his  training  as 
barrister,  until  hisdeath  in  1845  at  the  age  of  thirtv-six. 
His  ert^'orts  were  guided  by  a  study  of  Breton  do 
OS  Herreros,  which  certainly  tended  to  his  popularity, 
n  truth,  the  success  of  his  comedy,  Ningwia  dr.  hi^ 
Vr.s,  depicting  the  vain  efforts  of  three  unwortiiy 
■uitors  to  gain  the  hand  of  a  prudent  widow,  lies 
greatly  in  its  imitations  of  Breton's  Marcda.  Yet  it 
must  be  admitted  that  the  exposure  of  social  weak- 
nesses is  neat,  esjiecially  the  assumption  of  those  who 
after  a  trip  abroad  come  back  only  to  criticise  every- 


THE  DRAMA. 


r.8i 


lliiiii^  iit  liomc.  CuMcrDii's  l»('st  work  lies  liowcncr  in 
;i  licuvicr  line,  iiotnldy  in  diivalr;  p'uct's,  in  whicli 
Ills  roiiiaiitic  sciitiiiifiits  uiid  Hoaiiii*;  vci'si;  riiid  t'ltt- 
s(ii|»t',  iiiid  litliiig  sul)JL'cts  ill  proiKl  kni;^lits  and  iiolilo 
(laiiits.  Ill  till!  iiUHt  of  iiK'dianal  iiiiicH  lu'  can  satViy 
lit  pict  ideal  licincs  with  all  tlu-  liiniy  of  t'litliusiasin, 
with  lofty  aim  and  soimdinj^  words  and  liciy  lovf. 
Historic  truth  is  not  allowed  to  intcrru[)t  his  How, 
iiiid  lie  alinost  scorns  to  mar  scenes  so  stately  with 
iirtifice  of  plot.  His  love  soars  al)ovo  tl»e  sensual  to 
thi!  spiritual,  alon!4  with  his  inten.se  patriotism;  and 
iiotwitlistandhi^  tlu^  fame  accjuired  as  a  playwright,  he 
MUiains  ahove  all  the  poet,  and  his  verse  now  mainly 
sustains  h' ;  works.  The  foremost  ]»lace  may  \>i'  as- 
si:;iie(l  to  his  UcniKiii,  a  youiiiL?  cru.sader  wlu*  n-turiis 
t  •  fmd  his  betrothed  surrendered  to  an  elderly  duki'. 
W'hili!  seekiiiLC  tin  intt'iview  with  her  he  is  surprised 
hy  the  jealous  Jiusband  and  is  condemned  to  death. 
His  mother  comes  to  the  re.scuu  by  disclosing  him  to 
lie  the  natural  son  of  that  personage,  He  is  recog- 
nized by  tilt!  duk(>,  and  returns  to  die  for  the  lioly 
tause.  A7  Toriico  turns  on  the  adventures  of  a  youth 
aliducted  from  the  Creole,  who  at  the  su[)reme  moment 
liiids  l)otli  liis  parents  and  his  bride,  .liia  Holatia  is 
a  stat(.'ly  piece,  but  l>lays  liavoc  with  liistoric  truth. 
i'/iLilit  earlier  pieces  liad  been  performed  at  Zacatecas 
and  (iuadalajaia,  tlie  first,  in  18"J7,  being  Jicina/do  y 
FJriru.  Kl  Calxillcro  Xcfji'd  was  left  unfinished.  Two 
iditions  of  Calderon's  works  a[)peared  at  ISIexico  in 
IS4  4  and  1849,  and  a})preciatioii  has  also  been  mani- 
fested abroad,  })articularly  in  South  America. 

.r.  Scon  V  Contreras  of  Yucatan  has  attained  con- 
slderable  popularity  in  tlie  republic  with  his  cajxi  y 
(^ixtdd  or  love-intrigue  pieces,  so  peculiarly  S})anisli 
ill  form  and  estimation.  He  folhnvs  tlie  old  school 
tiu)  closely,  however,  and  is  moreover  hasty.  J.  A. 
Cisneros,  an  elegiac  poet,  outranks  him  in  priority 
iis  tlie  first  dramatic  writer  of  his  peninsula,  where  he 
idbo  aspired  to  the  foremost  position   as  satirist.     He 


!    ! 


if  H 

■f 

! 
i 
f 


¥1 


H 


582      LITERATURE  OF  MEXICO-NINETEENTH  CENTURY. 

claims  the  credit  of  several  reforms  in  his  art,  sucli  as 
tlie  suppression  of  monologues.  Mexicans  delight 
al)ove  all  in  the  farcical,  and  a  typical  piece  in  this  u- 
h[)ect  is  presented  in  the  liorraaca  de  un  SohraUnlo  hy 
Palacio  and  Mateos,  dei»icting  the  troubles  into  wlmli 
the  careless  and  graceless  owner  of  an  overcoat  is  lid. 
It  is  full  of  the  droll  incidents  and  conceits  so  charac- 
teristic of  the  people,  yet  it  descends  too  frequently 
into  i)uerilities  for  the  northern  mind,  which  also  ob- 
jects to  the  sacrifice  of  connection  and  consistency  to 
'momentary  gain.  TheOdio  Ucrcdifario  accords  better 
with  the  vein  of  these  Instorical  novelists. 

Whibi  the  comic  would  seemingly  prove  attractive 
to  local  writers,  those  possessing  the  ability  exiKiid 
their  efforts  as  a  rule  on  short  verse,  and  as})iraiits 
to  sustained  contributions  for  the  theatre  are  too  In  - 
quently    carried    away    by    more    ambitious   theni(  s. 
Thus  in  society  plays  the  sentimental  strain  beconu  s 
marked,   with   a  tendency  to   unhapjty   love,   as   ex- 
pi-essed  in  Peon  Contrei'a's  Cmi'njo  de  Dm,  and  Cue- 
liar's  Dcbcres  y  ISctcriJicios.     The  latter  exhibits  tlu' 
•patriotic  devotion  of  a  husban<l  for  a  refugee  friem!, 
who,  again,  sacrifices  himself  by  declining  the  low 
of  the  wife  which  had  meanwhile  turned  to  him. 

J'Jl  Mtddfo  of  Torvella  relates  in  prose  the  unhappy 
passion  of  a  slave  for  the  daughter  of  his  master.  i'<  i 
which  he  is  persecuted  and  driven  tosuicide.  It  finally 
appears  that  he  is  an  offspring  of  the  cruel  niasUi'. 
In  this  vein  run  several  among  the  score  of  dramas 
written  by  A.  L.  Oallardo,  the  exiled  editor  and  \)i)v[  ol' 
San  Francisco,  the  l>est  being,  however,  J/f/r/Vr  Anla- 
iiicfa  de  Lorena,  in  Galvan's  liistoric  form.  Camprudoii 
dwells  in  F/or  dr  iin  Din,  on  tlie  brighter  subject  <»t'  a 
woman  who  marries  a  man  for  liis  title,  grows  uii- 
haj)py,  but  is  finally  won  by  the  nol)le  traits  of  hei'  lni>- 
band.  An  equally  attractive  subject  is  El  Bei<o  of  Cii- 
losEscudero,  whose  several  excellent  comedies  brouoht 
him  much  local  fanu\  and  induced  a  dramatic  soi  ioty 
to  adopt  his  name  for  a  title.     Among  other  writois 


LATim  WRITERS. 


583 


nmst  be  mentioned  J.  M.  Vij^il,  the  historian  and 
p()(!t ;  Es  Anievas,  Senator  Ortega,  General  Toriiel, 
wliose  prose  work,  Jm  Mucrtc  dc  Ciccron,  liardly  ac- 
cords with  the  times  and  circumstances ;  A'alle,  tlie 
Wind  poet;  R.  Aldana,  of  Yucatan  ;  A.  Silva,  the 
democratic  poet.  M.  Gutierrez'  U)ia  para  Tados,  re- 
calls Calderon's  Nirifjima  dc  las  Trcs.  F.  Orozco  y 
Borra,  the  poet,  wrote  the  comedi(>s  Los  Trcs  Aspi- 
raiifcs  and  IjOS  Trcs  Pair  iotas.  Moreno,  renowned  for 
his  fables,  and  F.  do  Soria  left  comedies,  and  Ijj;nacio 
Austria,  Antonio  Hurtado,  Emilio  Hey,  Jose  G.  Za- 
iiiora,  Zayas  y  Enricjuez,  Zeronimo  Baturoni,  Joaquin 
Villal(>bos,  F.  M.  Escalante,  and  Tovar  have  likewise 
tried  their  pens  as  playwrights.  Finally  nmst  be  men- 
tioned one  conspicuous  mcnd)er  from  the  other  sex  in 
Isabel  Pricto,  wlio,  while  born  in  Spain,  came  to 
Mexico  in  early  childhood,  there  to  be  educated  and 
married.  As  a  poetess  she  sings  of  maternal  love  and 
family  joys,  and  this  sentimental  spirit  is  noticeable 
also  in  her  works  for  the  statj;e,  more  than  a  dozen  in 
tmmber,  notably  dramas  of  the  temperate  romantic 
school,  with  neat  female  characters,  supplemented  by 
some  comedies  of  Bretonian  stamp. 

Few  of  these  productions  have  survived  the  first 
presentation,  less  have  seen  print,  and  many  have  re- 
mained unheard  and  uncojiied.  The  cause  lies  not  so 
much  in  defects  due  to  lack  of  experience  or  dramatic 
taste  or  inspiration,  as  in  the  lack  of  opportunities  to 
roach  the  stage,  as  obse':'ved  before.  The  result  has 
1)1 'en  partly  to  discourage  authors,  particularly  from 
oriijinal  efforts,  and  to  foster  the  imitations  observal>lc 
ovon  in  Cnltlcron  and  (jralvan.  The  tendency  is  de- 
plorable from  one  aspect,  but  the  superior  training 
thereby  acquired  nmst  in  time  make  itself  felt,  and 
permit  a  departure  leading,  perhaps,  to  a  truly  national 
sr'liool.  The  array  of  aspirants  in  the  fiehl,  desj)ite  all 
oKstacles,  indicates  how  wide- spread  is  the  taste  inher- 
iti'd  from  forefathers  among  whom  flourished  Lope, 
Calderon,  and  Cervantes,  and  what  may  consequently 


14  tds'lst 


]|j 


■H 


\i 


684      LITERATURE  OF  MEXICO- NINETEEN!  II  CENTURY. 

be  expected  from  a  country  wliicli  has  cradled  Alaroon 
and  (ilorostiza,  not  to  mention  tlie  immediate  succes- 
sors of  the  latter. 

The  government  has  occasionally  manifested  a  de- 
sire to  promote  local  talent,  and  to  foster  taste,  but 
the  subsidies  have  been  misdirected  and  spasmodic, 
owing  to  distracting  party  struggles  and  constant 
changes.  In  1831-2  a  credit  of  $20,000  was  opened. 
and  Maximilian  showed  himself  equally  thoughtful, 
two  theatres  receiving:  from  him  .$300  a  month  each. 
Musical  performances  were  chiefly  favored.  One  care 
of  the  censor  appointed  in  1828  was  to  expose  royalty 
and  its  accessories  as  objects  for  scoff  or  tragedy.'^  A 
censorship  has  generally  existed,  and  while  little 
aversion  is  shown  for  extremes  of  French  style,  objec- 
tionable features  are  glossed  or  turned  into  a  more 
tacceptable  channel.  A  characteristic  effort  is  always 
made  to  save  appearances.  The  disposition  for  slmw 
and  effect,  combined  with  unreflecting  impulse,  i'e\eals 
itself,  especially  in  ambitious  themes,  by  hiconsisteiicy 
and  lack  of  historic  truth,  and  a  yielding  to  rhapsody 
and  the  fantastic  rather  than  the  imaginative. 


The  best  efforts  of  the  jSIexican  poets  must  be  sought 
rather  in  fugitive  pieces,  prompted  l)y  an  inii)ulsive 
vivacity,  f'an  in  more  elaborate  compositions,  requir- 
ing a  sustained  plan,  and  a  harmonious  coordination  of 
details.  The  attempted  epics  have,  as  a  rule,  dropped 
down  to  plain  narrative  poems,  or  shone  for  a  time  in 
the  borrowed  lustre  of  moi'e  or  h^ss  ularinsjc  imitatieii. 
The  inclination  to  copy,  marked  enough  in  this  iv- 
spect  among  the  S])aniards,  has  been  intensified  w'tli 
the  infusion  of  aboriginal  blood.  When  confined  td 
Spanish  or  classic  models,  it  seems  to  have  stultified 
the  students.  Later,  the  art  of  all  Europe  was  o]>eiii(l 
to  them,  and  althouoh  thev  lin-jjered  rather  ex<lusivilv 
within  the  (iallic  border,  taste  failed  not  to  derive 
benefit,  as  instanced  by  Alcaraz,  Lacunza,  and  otln  is. 

Their  strength  lies  above  all  in  amatory  poems,  so 


I'OETIIY, 


685 


S(  HI  gilt 

iilsive 
(■(juir- 
tidii  of 

■()]i]>c(l 

me   ill 

itatiiwi. 

lis  rc- 

l  NV'tll 
led  fii 
llltiliid 
n])i'!ii'ii 
isi\i'lv 
dciivt' 
)tli('rs. 
Ills,  no 


Piu<']i  in  kcoplnuj  with  their  gallant  disposition,  soela- 
I)i]ity,  and  niohih;  })assi()ns,  but  liere  neither  tlie 
hluntness  of  the  Si)aniard  in  ordinary  life,  nor  the 
extreme  sugi^estiveness  of  the  Frencliman,  can  he  said 
to  prevail;  ratlier  an  inijK'tuous  tenderness  that  im- 
I tarts  a  special  charm  to  the  verse.  To  this  must  be 
atlded  the  tendencv  toward  eleiiiac  strains  which  is  so 
marked  amonij  the  aborij»inal  ancestrv.  It  is  not 
deep,  however,  for  the  ^Mexican  is  after  all  a  s})rightly 
individual,  incrmed  to  frivolity,  and  little  intent  on  the 
car(!s  of  to-morrow.  Hence  his  affection  for  the  Cas- 
tilian  ])roverb  and  epigram,  which,  united  to  the 
native  bent  for  satire,  have  tended  to  form  a  di'oll 
suggestive  kind  of  humor  of  a  j>icaresque  order,  that 
to  tlie  foreigner  smacks  of  pu(nility.  It  is  iimocent, 
however,  for  it  attacks  classes  ami  class  traits  rather 
tlian  individuals. 

While  the  ode  is  a  favorite  form  of  verse,  whether 
]ir(iiii})t'jd  by  patriotism,  or  by  the  ins[)iring  beauty  and 
grandeur  of  nature,  it  must  bo  confessed  that  on  tlu> 
whole  the  elibrts  in  this  direction  fall  short  of  their 
aim;  the  will  is  there  but  not  the  power,  and  exceji- 
tions  sustain  the  rule.  (,)f  patriotic  lines  it  may  be 
said  that  they  are  pitched  too  high  for  us,  with  thun- 
dering apostrophes,  strong  invectives,  and  glitti^'ing 
sentences.  In  philosophic  themes  the  shallow  treat- 
nuMit  is  <'ither  broken  in  upon  by  rash  utterance,  or 
left  markedly  unfinislied:  the  mysticism  of  tin;  schol- 
astic era  has  faded  with  the  inlhix  of  new  idi'as.  In- 
<<»in])lctcness  also  stamps  the  j)ortrayal  of  character 
oi'  individuals,  and  the  description  of  scenery,  due 
partly  to  want  of  depth  and  criticism,  ])artly  to  iiiher- 
»  lit  lack  of  a}>})reciation.  '^i'he  Indians  are  noted  for 
a  lovi!  of  flowers,  but  the  Spaniards  reveal  little  taste 
t'li' any  natural  object,  and  the  feeble  eflbrts  of  the 
AFexicans  in  this  ri'gard  appear  to  be  ])rompted  l)y 
foreign  models;  a  prompting  also  indicate(l  by  the 
clioice  of  subjects,  with  insufKcient  regard  for  the  rich 
aboriijinal  sources. 


i 


I 


586      LITERATURE  OF  MEXICO— NINETEENTH  CENTURY, 


While  the  study  of  classic  metre  has  left  its  traces, 
the  declamatory  bent  of  the  people  also  leads  to  the 
idiomatic  and  quantitative  rhythm  which  characterizes 
it.  The  irregular  improvisatory  silva  is  much  used. 
Otherwise  the  old  national  redondilla  and  the  ottava 
rinia  measures  may  be  regarded  as  the  favorites,  nota- 
bly the  latter,  although  the  short  verse  is  undoubtedly 
the  happiest  with  them.  The  leaning  toward  vcrso.^ 
lie  arte  mayor,  as  longer  lines  are  called,  is  greatly  duo 
to  affectation,  although  fostered  by  the  remarked  )]o 
adaptivcness  of  the  language  for  rhyme,  extending  in 
the  consonantal  to  two,  and  even  three  syllables,  and 
to  three  or  more  lines.  Indeed,  there  are  long  poems 
with  a  predominant  or  unchanging  rhjnne.  The  mo- 
notony of  this  Moorish  feature  no  doubt  influenced 
the  reaction  manifested  in  the  asonante  compromise 
between  blank  and  consonantal  endings,  so  purely 
Spanish,  and  so  pleasing.  Occasional  rhyme  is  also 
used,  and  the  form  of  Garcilaso  in  connecting  one 
stanza  with  the  following.  The  tendency  to  inappro- 
priate language  and  imagery,  to  vehement  terms  and 
a  nmltiplicity  of  adjectives,  is  [)artly  idiosyncratic,  and 
must  not  be  judged  by  the  samestrict  rules  governing 
less  volatile  nations.  With  all  the  study  of  modrls, 
the  laws  of  prosody,  of  euphony,  are  frequently  in- 
vaded, as  might  of  course  by  expected  from  the  imprt- 
uous  temperament  of  the  Creoles,  impatient  under 
Dustained  regulations.  It  must  be  admitted,  howincr, 
that  they  possess  a  wide  and  choice  range  of  words, 
strikingly  manifested  in  comparing  the  vocabulary  of 
the  lower  classes  with  that  of  corresponding  Anglo- 
Saxon  ranks;  and  this  facility,  combined  with  easy 
rhythmic  flow  and  natural  vivacity,  imparts  an  un- 
deniable attraction. 

The  use  of  Americanisms  is  widely  approved  l>y 
leading  writers,  yet  not  very  marked.  While  tlie 
academy  dictionary  is  upheld,  the  number  of  transla- 
tions current,  and  the  affectation  of  foreign  imit;itor3 
has  led  to  tlie  introduction  of  foreign  phrases,  and  a 


PROGRESS. 


887 


French  form  at  times  very  glaring ;  others  affect  an 
antiquated  style,  with  enclitics  and  other  features. 
The  use  of  lo  and  Ic  in  the  accusative,  and  certain 
other  points  differ  from  the  peninsular  rules.  The 
orthography  is  strictly  phonetic;  nevertheless  the 
confusion  with  b  and  v,  g,  j  and  x,  c,  q,  s  and  z,  i  and  y, 
and  li,  with  accents  and  other  forms,  even  among  the 
Inst  writers,  shows  the  prevalent  instability,  and  the 
need  of  concerted  action  amonij:  ii^en  of  letters  under 
the  guidance  of  another  Cortina.  In  such  a  case  it 
might  be  connncndable,  in  a  patriotic  sense,  to  yield 
to  the  party  clamoring  for  Mexican  distinctiveness, 
yet  the  modern  tendency  toward  universality  and  sim- 
plicity, toward  progress,  would  undoubtedly  demand 
greater  accord  with  peninsular  taste. 

j\Icxico  has  more  than  kept  pace  with  the  universal 
advance  during  the  present  century,  when  her  back- 
ward position  during  colonial  days  is  considered.  Tlie 
masses  then  were  restrained  in  aspirations  not  alone 
by  state  and  church,  as  in  other  catholic  countries, 
but  by  class  and  race  jealousies.  With  the  achieve- 
ment of  independence,  mestizos  advanced  to  the  front 
in  public  life,  and  to  contend  with  the  pure  Creoles  for 
supremacy  also  in  literature  and  other  fields.  The 
Indian  was  held  back  awhile  by  political  intrigue,  by 
tlio  eti'cct  of  centuries  of  suppression,  and  by  natural 
(lillidence.  Nevertheless  he  gradually  crept  forward, 
and  his  progress  would  have  been  greater  but  for  the 
struggles  of  the  church  to  retain  her  control. 

The  Creole  fashion  of  despising  local  productions 
and  writers  had  to  yield  before  the  revolution  to  the 
aptitude  and  vivacity  of  the  mestizo,  and  now  has 
}tasscd  away  in  all  directions  with  the  rise  of  rulers, 
savants,  and  industrial  leaders  from  every  class  and 
Yiivo.  The  revival  so  widely  observed  of  aboriginal 
traditions  and  glories  nmst  acquire  firmer  hold  under 
tlie  auspices  of  such  men  as  Juarez  and  Alvarez, 
lianiirez  and  Altamirano;  and  with  the  elevation  of 


588      LITKUATUHK  OK  MKXU'i)     N'lXKT.lKM'il    I'KNTrKV. 

iuit'u>n{il  t«>j»i*'s  iind  l<H'al  writers,  Aiiiiliuac  will  soon 
boast,  of  sclit ols  of  lirr  own  in  (.lilK-rt'iit  ilcparliiiciiis 
of  K>t((>rs. 

I^'roin  this  as|H'ct  names  likc^  ( Joi"osti/;iaii(l  Caldrroii 


icM'i'do   ln'forc    lliat    of    (jalvau,    wiu 


o,    altlioU!4li 


proliru'  and  hrilliant,  porfonncd  a  fjjri'atcr  .siTvicc*  I'.u' 
ids  t'ouMti\v  ill  |trrsi>iitin>4;  a  national  drama  and  direct - 
in^j  taste  to  historic  us  well  as  local  sourci's.  The 
elfoils  of  lyric  j)oi>ts  in  tlu^  same  din-ction  wen^  less 
nu'ritoriims.  inj|>(>lled  as  tliey  wtM'o  l>y  cii'cumslanees. 
in  ri'sponst'  t(»  o'enei'al  ))ul»lie  demand.  With  tlieni 
tlu»  credit  shall  he  |>ersi>verance,  for  ]\Ie\ieans,  hv 
their  own  admission,  are  backward  in  many  branches, 
and  la»'lv.  for  instance,  a.  niitional  epic  of  a  hi^h  ty|u'. 
There  is  also  room  for  improvement  in  fornj.  The 
simpK^  stvle  o\'  the  sixteenth  C'  durv  was  abandoned 
for  the  artilicialities  o\'  (Scuioorism,  wherein  thestriv- 
iii;j;  was  to  snrjiass  in  extravagance  and  iloridity.  A 
I'caetion  set  in,  l)iit  the  disposition  still  clint:Jastron^ly, 
favv)ri>d  by  the  structur('  of  the  lan^iiao-e  and  vavo 
characteristics.  A  d*M'per  study  of  An<j;lo-Saxon  aiul 
Teutonic  mo(K>ls  oiler  the  best  antidotc\ 

TiiJ  growinjj;  part icijiat ion  of  Indians  in  literatuit- 
may  liave  ;i  <;'oo(l  iMlect  in  oiXMiinjj;  additional  founts  tor 
iuspiratit)n,  and  in  toning''  the  inhei-itiul  Spanish  e\- 
ubei-ance,  as  well  as  impartint;"  stri'ni;th  to  di'licieiit 
branches.  The  precocity  of  the  mestizo,  restiiiij,' 
partly  on  the  fact  that  lie  enjoyed  superior  ad\an- 
ta!»es.  mav  be  balanced  bv  the  greater  dei)th  of  tlie 
less  volatile  natives,  which  a«;ain  reminds  us  that 
tl 


volatile    natives, 
lese,  with  theii'  iidtM'ior  ran<^'e  of  imaj^'ination,  prom- 

ho 


ise  to  I'xcel  ratlu'r  in  tlu'  solid  branch(>s,  leaving'  to  t 


mori'  sprightly  cnole  and  intermi'diat»>   laees 


li-1 


Iter 


i\m\  more  fani'iful  topics.  Xi>vertheless  satiric  no  le.-:s 
than  njystii'  veins  are  innate  with  the  aborigines,  ami 
their  kei-nness  of  t)bservation  Mid  eoiis|)icuons  lo\  <•  ler 
tlowers.  and  for  open  air  lifi>,  iiulieate  an  aptitude  let' 
deseriptiv(>  and  pastoi'al  themes. 

Now  with  peace  assured,  with  the  spread  ol' educii- 


TilK   FUTlIiiK. 


R80 


tion  tliroutifli  rnpldly  mMlti))ly'mL'  srhooln  nn<l  i^oriod- 
icals;  aiul  with  growiiiij;  iiiicrcoursc,  especially  t<>wHi<l 
the  cnt.eri)risiii;^  and  eidijj;hteiUMl  llnited  States,  a 
vista  ()])(>ns  ho  far  uiio<|Maned.  Tliousaiids  liilheito 
(hsti-acted  by  the  iunnoils  of  war  and  atieiuhint 
pohlical  cliaiijjfc^s  will  turn  to  th(M'ultivatioii  of  letters, 
under  the  iiiceulives  of  inherited  taste  and  ItMsun^  and 
t)f  wideniniX  iuUln  for  observation  and  expandinjjc 
oj)|)oi'tnnitiea. 

'('(iiiiMTiiint;  Hie  iiatimial  lilirary,  ^fl^.r.,  Arrh'm\  Vol.  r.ri/.,  vi.  700-10, 
ri'fi'rs  to  ii|>iiiiiiiliiu<nl,  of  regular  oirK'«<r.s  in  ISOl,  ami  (.lie  grant,  «if  iiiil.  'I'lui 
l.iiLji'st  ciillo'lidiin  ill  tlio  (^iiiiiitry,  of  tlie  iiiiivorsity,  catluMlral,  tlio  funiicr 
,l('siiit  I'oUcgc,  ami  dtlioi-M,  wcro  al>»<irl)(<(l  hy  it,  so  tliat  over  l(H),()<K>  voluiiiei 
were  eoimteii  witiiin  a  lew  years  filler  tlie  forinatinii.  Si»:  Uli.r.  f.'rn;/.,  Hal., 
seri(>ii.,  toiii.  i.,  .'iri!).  ('ov,irnil)iaM  ill  ISTT)  eiuiiiierates  'JO  |)nlili(!  iilirarie.H, 
wllli  'J!l(),('<*'>  volumes,  (if  wliich  three  are  at  Mexico,  liiitriii:  I'lih.  Hefereiii!0 
III  imlilie  eoUeetions  in  <litl'ereiit  states  may  Im  louiid  in  tli<!  Mi.i:  l>iiir.  O/ir., 
Nov.  -JO,  IS7(>,  etc.:  /iol,/iii  ilr  Xotl,:,  Jan."'.',  ISHI,  etc.;  /)i,irl>  </>■  Arl.i.,  l\\>. 
II,  May  (),  It,  I.SoT,  witli  ileerees;  IViijffxii/i,  Mix.,  I'JO  I;  /rh  /■j'-]>"ii.,  i)ec. 
•J,  INK'.';  h\-<>  \,ir.,  Jan.  ll»,  Aug.  'AS,  hS.".7,  Aug.  '2\  '2,  IS.-.S;  hUhimhirh'  Sm:, 
.1.111.  li>,  l.S,')7,  etc.;  I>ic(\  I'liir,,  i. -x.,  passim,  in  coiiiieetioii  mIiIi  towns  an. I 
iMillcges;  also  in  Pimniniviitn  ^'iu\,  l.n  uVitrinn,  Kl  Tifinjxi,  etc.  'riio  cstali- 
li  linieiit  ot  reailiiig-rooms  is  spoken  of  in  Mix.  Mini.,  Sii\  hUlnil.  (KS'JIl),  .'lit - 
10,  anil  later  in  .1  »;/;/<)  ihi  I'lirhto,  Nejit.  (t,  LSI.").  No  circulating  liliraries  fop 
I  lie  ]ico|ilo  I'xist  even  now — none  M'ortliy  the  name.  Tlieir  rcailing  is  uoitlinod 
ihii  lly  to  religious  Imoks,  Hayn  Itiillocli,  AiTus.i  Mrx.,  '217. 

■Ill  IS7(5  Covarruliias,  Inx/rHi:  /'iililli-n,  cnunierateil  7^  associations,  of 
wliicti  '•!',(  were  scieiitilii',  '2\  lit<'rary,  '20  artistic,  ami  '\  mixed.  For  ilescrip- 
liiiii  of  several  provincial  societies,  1  refer  to  Alliiiin,  Mix,  ii.  I'l'J;  l.'i  <'niz,  iii. 
HIT;  Diiirh  ill'  Arh.,  .\\\\\  8,  l.S.")7;  Uii'ivvmI,  Apr.  I  i,  ami  other  dad's  of 
I^."i0;  J/cc,  7>/((Wit  <;/;  .Ian.  18,  Kelt.  7,  1871,  etc.;  Mix.,  i'ld.  Lijii",  \S\S, 
-7t)  I.  (.'ainiieeho  hoasled  until  lately  the  hest  arch.eological  ninsiMiin  next 
t.i  Mexico.  Four  other  states  possess  collections  of  a  varied  charai'ter.  The 
.\railcinia  de  Letrau counted  among  its  founders  the  Lacun/asaml  (1.  I'ricto, 
till'  l.iceo  Hid.algo  oinhraced  .).  Navarro  and  (Jraiiailos  M.ildonado.  For 
I'liciiing  and  associates  of  the  Instituto,  see  liiitifii/n  ilr  ( Vcwc/a.i,  l.i/i  rn/iirn,  y 
Arliiy  1  4'J.  ('onci-rniiig  its  struggles,  .see  Cinnjri'so,  (\>iixHl.  ill/  .I'/ins,  IS  I'.l; 
Mrx.,  Cor.  Fi'il.,  Mar. 'JO,  l.S'J8;  l\ip.  Vm:,  cxlii.,  jit  x.  An  informal  .(mi/ZAt 
cxiitcd  hufore  the  revolution,  and  \\w  academies  known  as  La  Fiicarnaciou  y 
.^aii  .lose,  S.  Felipe  Neri,  Troiicoso'a,  and  others. 

•'The  code  contains  a  mass  of  decri'cs  comeriiiug  liberty  of  press  and  cog- 
iiali- siihjects  under  almost  every  year  of  re]iulilican  rule,  and  histories  and 
jiiinnals  alioiind  in  comments  thereon.  A  rcpuMican  organ  was  estaMished 
ill  l.siJinOajaca.  Ahnnni,,  llisl.  Mij.,'w.  XtO;  v.  401  (>,(»»').  Mix.,  I'm:  riil., 
Hcc.  ;{,  IS'Jti,  gives  a  list  of  contemporary  journals.  In  l.'n-m  Mix.,  i.  77,  for 
l>>ll,  are  enumeratod  li>  in  the  provinces  and  III  at  Mexico,  the  latter  incliid- 
'u\<x  one  French  and  several  literary  and  satiric  jieriodicals,  lint  only  one  d.iily 
iii«sp;iper,  luhla  Ciililiroii,  l/ij'i;  IVJO.  Fos.sey,  J/cr., 'J88,  gives  i'l'J  for  IS.'iO, 
lit  which  ten  were  issued  at  Mexico.  Tlio  censorship  reduced  the  iiuinlicr 
alter  I.S.'iS.  For  181)1,  llernande/,  EslniK  Mij.,  'J78,  a]ipends  a  list  of  rili,  of 
"liii'li  eight  at  Mexico,  live  in  tho  stato  of  (iuanajuato,  four  in  Miehoacan, 
t 'iir  in  /.acatecas,  the  other  states  having  fnun  one  to  three.  }iy  1871 
NIcxieo  city  alone  had  19  of  all  classes.  Aim.,  Lmn  y  Whitx,  1871,  A'2-'M  Pup. 
I'"'-.,  cviii.,  pt  i.,  ()1-H.  Barhacliano,  Mem.  Coniy.,  (iO  et  net].,  gives  tho.so 
tliut  have  llourishod  in  Yucatan;  alto  RijUtro  Yuc,  i.  '2\Y.WI\   M'.i;»2xi«m,  Mex., 


:,i : 


W. 


m 


690      LITERATURE  OP  MEXICO-NINETEENTH  CENTURY. 


120-1;  Rklithofen,  Mtx.,  166-71;  Ternaux-Compons,  Nouv.  Annalen  ilrs  Voi/., 
xciii.  49;  Mex.,  Cor.  Fed.,  Sept.  3(),  182«;  Dim  Aim  rn  Mex.,  48-9,  84-5;  '/,« 
Cruz,  iii.  607,  etc.     Uiiiwrml,  Feb.  22,  1850,  etc.,  exixwes  the  subsidies  paid. 

*  Witli  more  care  Li/anli,  observes  Beristain,  'pottia  inerecer,  si  no  I'l  ndni- 
bre  (le  Qimwdo  AniericiDw,  &  lo  iiienoa  el  tie  Torrt'i  Villaroel  Mi-.riniiio.' 
Bill.  J/ixp.  Am.,  ii.  191.  Senator  M.  Bdrbachano  ranks  aa  the  leailiiig  Hatir- 
i-.t  of  Yucatan. 

•''Rivera  claims  precedence  for  tlie  mo.st  bulky  of  local  histories  in  IIMnrin 
(!r  Jiil'ijhi,  in  live  volumes,  M'hich  cover  the  republic  in  general,  however, 
tli(iu){li  imperfectly  and  unsymmetrically.  Ba<iuciro's  incomplete  Enmiyo  un 
the  later  history  of  Yucatan  is  stamped  by  simdar  defects. 

"Carrillo  is  an  entliusiiistic  priest  who  has  written  much  on  the  history 
and  relics  of  that  country.  The  chief  work  of  J.  Arroniz,  the  well-known 
f^eiicral  writer,  was  iv  history  of  Orimlni.  The  publications  of  the  eeograpiii- 
lal  society  embrace  a  most  valuable  series  of  such  local  material,  largely  of 
statistical  nature.  Theditruscncss  of  both  general  and  local  liistones  has 
broufiht  about  many  abritlgemcnts,  as  iust'inced  in  the  cases  of  Bustamaiito 
iind  Alaman.  Arrangoiz  forma  from  the  latter  an  introductory  synopsis  to 
liii  <nvu  book.  History  of  Mexican  Revolutions  is  the  virtual  title  of  Moi-a, 
Zorecero,  and  Zavala's  works.  The  hrst  added  a  'Jhras  Siiclta.'i,  Paris  ISI7, 
wliich  really  forms  a  supplement  to  his  history,  with  its  reviews  antl  articles. 
Zaviila  issued  the  tirst  journal  in  Yucatan. 

*To  Larrainzar,  who  figured  as  minister  of  state,  is  also  due  an  acccjit- 
able  hi.story  of  Soconusco,  and  an  imperfect  essay  on  Mexican  history-writing. 
.1.  M.  do  Biircena  wrote  an  abridged  history  of  ancient  Mexico.  Vigil  lias 
d;iiio  gooil  .service  by  the  publication  of  many  forgotten  chronicles  iiii.l 
documents. 

'Similar  to  Sosa's  is  a  small  volume  by  Arroniz,  forming  part  of  au  iii- 
cnmpleted  descriptive  scries  known  as  Eiirirli ijif ilin  Jluqh  Aiiier.  In  tiic 
Mexic;in  supplement  to  Dice.  Uiiir..  is  similar  material. 

•"Munguia  also  wrote  on  jisychology  and  political  science.  The  roligidin 
Jfr(/iliiriiiii(n  of  Quiiitana,  father  of  the  famous  patriot  and  writer  Qiiiiitiiii 
Roil,  ]>assed  through  three  editions.  Rnstamante,  among  others,  unilcrtdiik 
au  eiujrgetic  defense  of  the  .Jesuits.  One  of  his  earliest  essays  was  in  bcliali' 
of  the  aristocratic  shrine  of  Remedios.  There  are  plenty  of  tracts  and  luicf 
essays  on  these  fields. 

"Cortina  was  widely  honored  abroad.  He  resided  for  a  long  time  in  Spain 
and  represented  her  as  minister.  His  Sinnniiiins  received  the  comineiidatiuii 
of  tlie  Spanish  academy,  and  his  mivnual  for  diplomats  was  widely  acccpu  il 
a<  a  guide.  Orozco  y  Berra  acquired  distinction  for  geodetic  work,  and  ihm; 
to  the  position  of  minister  of  public  works,  and  to  the  supreme  bench,  but  liy  ;u- 
cepting  service  under  Maximilian  he  lost  much  of  his  mlluencc,  and  was  even 
liiietl  and  imprisoned  for  the  misstep.  Garcia  Cubas  is  well  known  for  l;is 
maps,  on  which  he  was  assisted  by  Covarrubias.  The  latter  headed  tlie  .Nb\- 
icaii  astroinmiic  expedition  to  Japan  in  1874 ;  later  he  went  as  minister  tn 
(iuateiuala.  Biircena  has  had  many  plants  named  after  him.  J.  P.  Perez  aiil 
J.  Ruz  stand  prominent  in  Y'ucatau  for  linguistic  studies.  'J  he  books  of  tiia  e! 
by  Zavala  and  (i.  Prieto  have  achieved  a  representative  character  with  tlieir 
descrijitive  and  reflective  passage" 

'''  Bishop  Palafox  had  search  made  for  novels,  and  they  were  either  ImuL'lit 
or  seized  and  burned,  religious  books  being  substituted.  '  Accion. . . .  Imu 
digna  de  que  los  denws  la  imiteu  en  toda  la  Christiandad,'  commeuts  Calif, 
jilfiii.  y  Not.,  40. 

"C.  Prieto  frankly  admits  that  'no  se  bosquejan  caractcres  sino  retractiK,' 
CiutiUn,  JlortiH,  p.  iv.  In  this  edition  of  Castillo  aj)pear  El  eerebro  y  el  cnra- 
zon,  Hasta  et  cielo,  and  other  pieces.  Among  Cuellar's  works  isLas(ieMtes 
que  son  asi,  in  two  volumes.  Lizardi's  satiric  novels  have  been  consiileroil 
elsewhere. 

'-Concerning  government  subsidies  to  theatres  I  refer  to  Mexiro,  Mi muriit 
dellackmla,  IS^Tl,  118,  etc  ;  Paym,  CueiUajt,  719-20;  A mljo  del  Pueblo,  iv.  'JI-'J. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


EARLY  CALIFORNIA  LITERATURE. 


The  advancing  man  discovurs  how  dc^ep  a  property  Iio  has  in  literature, 
in  all  fablo  as  woU  as  in  all  history, 

— Emernon. 


The  remarkable  strides  made  by  California  in  ma- 
terial advancement  are  not  unattended  by  a  corres- 
ponding intellectual  development,  though  the  lattjr 
lias  in  it  more  of  the  practical  than  of  the  {esthetic. 
While  yet  too  young  to  boast  of  a  literature  wholly 
]i(T  own,  she  has  achieved  prominence  in  the  field  of 
letters  by  the  number  and  variety  as  well  as  quality 
of  books  emanating  from  her  midst.  Just  what  pro- 
p  )rtion  of  these  writings  properly  belong  hero  is  a 
(juestion,  for  our  leading  authors  were  none  of  them 
I)  )rn,  or  to  any  great  extent  educated,  on  the  Pacific 
coast;  nevertheless,  there  are  present  the  condi- 
tions of  development  which  have  contributed  essen- 
tially, if  not  wholly,  hi  producing  certain  results. 

Environment  moulds  the  mind  for  opportunity';  botli 
of  these  all-important  factors  were  here  i)rovided. 
The  one  acted  imperceptil)ly,  the  other  by  waiting. 
I^lsewhere  scenery  exists  equally  inspiring;  indeed,  it 
is  not  wisdom  to  dwell  too  much  on  the  influence  of 
S!iow-crowned  sierras,  Yosemite  pictures,  stately  for- 
ests with  towering  sequoias,  puffing  geysers,  and  a 
1  uid  overflowing  with  industry  and  wealth.  Temper- 
ate air,  with  pleasant  and  healthy  surroundings,  is 
more  conducive  to  every  kind  of  culture  than  the 
miasmatic  tropics  or  hyperborean  rigors.  Our  climate 
is  that  of  Italy  freed  from  its  impurities,  and  reen- 
forced  with  a  bracing,  quickening  current,  which  pro- 

(5911 


B92 


EAllLY  CALIFORNIA  IJTERATimR 


motes  energy  of  body  and  mind.  There  is,  as  a  rule, 
no  depre.ssiii!^  cold,  no  enervating  heat  to  retard  the 
machinery  <)t'  Ufo;  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  cvery- 
tiiin;.'"  to  foster  activity,  as  evidenced  in  the  husth;  that 
surrounds  us.  There  is  exhilaration  in  the  air,  and  iu 
tiie  unfolding  of  countless  resources  in  every  direction, 
following  quickly  U[)on  one  another  since  the  all-con i- 
polling  discovery  of  gold.  The  excitement  of  constant 
disclosures,  of  ever-changing  phases  of  fortune,  lias 
imi)artL!d  a  buoyancy,  partaking  frequently  of  fcvir- 
ishness,  that  might  be  regarded  with  apprehension 
but  for  the  sustaining  qualities  of  the  soil  and  air. 

While  these  features  iniiuence  literary  life,  it  cannot 
bo  said  that  they  are  particularly  creative,  for  no  in- 
digenous civilization  sprang  here  into  being,  or  found 
even  a  halting-place  in  this  latitude.  The  superficial, 
vivacious  Mexican  brou<j;ht  no  mental  elements  to  Ik; 
develojied,  but  inclined  rather  toward  sports,  local 
turmoil,  and  patriarchal  si?nplicit3^  Intellectual  dc- 
volopnient  came  from  the  east,  brouglit  by  adventur- 
ous, enter[)rising  men  with  liberal  ideas.  Every 
element  for  the  formation  of  a  most  progressive  com- 
monwealth was  thus  all  at  once  introduced.  The 
traits  of  a  dozen  nationalities  served  to  modify  and 
improve  the  predoiiinating  American  mind.  TIk y 
were  full-fledged  jjioneers,  and  as  such  their  efforts, 
physical  or  mental,  might  be  claimed  for  their  res])c(- 
tive  natal  states;  but  without  the  stinmlus  here  im- 
parted their  energies  would  have  taken  a  very  dill'eri'nt 
direction,  or,  indeed,  have  lain  dormant.  These  ail- 
ventures,  and  the  attendant  opportunity,  proved  tlic 
cradle  for  productions  stamped  by  those  same  agencies 
as  distinctly  Californian. 

Consider  well  the  inspiring  eflPect  upon  the  mind  of 
the  physical  surroundings,  earth,  air,  and  sky,  after  a 
tedious  trip  across  the  plains,  or  a  long,  monritonous 
voyage  by  sea;  and  above  all,  of  the  new  social  con- 
ditions, of  peculiar  life,  strange  happenings,  and  ext  ii- 
ing  jiursuitd,  restless  activity,  and  great  achievenientii 


UNDER  MEXICAN  RULE. 


BOS 


ill  developing  character,  and  producing  physical  and 
mental  exuberance. 

Letters  poured  eastward  to  friends  and  journals, 
revealing  in  their  gra[)hic  narration  the  development 
of  the  new  era.  Local  periodicals  displayed  their 
side  of  the  picture,  and  occasionally  enthusiasts  tore 
themselves  away  from  all-absorbing  business  and  en- 
ervating excesses  to  elaborat*^  their  impressions  in 
books,  for  which  the  universal  interest  in  the  country 
provided  a  popular  reception.  Nor  were  these  pro- 
ductions few  when  compared  with  those  of  other 
states.  Indeed,  more  volumes  were  written  in  Cali- 
fornia within  the  quarter  century  following  1849  than 
ill  all  the  other  states  and  territories  west  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi. They  number  nearly  two  hundred,  some  of 
which  sought  a  wider  publishing  field  in  eastern 
centres. 

These  progressional  phenomena  are  in  striking  con- 
trast to  the  condition  of  mind  in  colonial  times. 
During  the  period  of  Mexican  rule,  from  1769  to  1846, 
not  a  single  literary  effort  appears  worthy  of  note,  and 
what  was  written  consists  almost  wholly  of  letters 
and  reports  by  officials,  friars,  and  a  few  leading  resi- 
dents, which  have  swollen  in  course  of  time  to  a  vcl- 
uminous  mass,  as  indicated  by  a  series  of  shelves  in 
my  library.  They  relate  to  the  growth  of  the  colony, 
to  local  disturbances,  and  even  to  petty  revolutions; 
while  rare  foreign  visits  evoked  a  flood  of  details  pro- 
portionate to  the  fears,  jealousies,  and  excitement 
created.  They  are  pervaded  by  the  tone  of  bustling 
ofHciousness,  from  men  intent  on  asserting  their  im- 
portance, and  their  pomposity  becomes  amusing  when 
compared  with  the  insignificant  jurisdiction  and  inter- 
ests concerned.  The  friars  treat  of  the  economic  and 
spiritual  administration  of  their  charge,  varied  by 
disputes  with  the  military  commanders.  Their  com- 
munications breathe  the  self-sacrificing  spirit  of  super- 
stitious men  who  have  voluntarily  exiled  themselves 
for  the  fancied  cause  of  duty  and  humanity. 


I :  ' 


EijijAYS  AND  Miscellany    88 


BM 


KARIA'  CAMFORMA  I.ITKRATURI?. 


Tho  stvlo  roinpiuvs  favonihly  with  Hiiuilar  (Mimim- 
tioMS  ill  \Irxiro;  Itut  on  (hr  \vli«»lr  it  lias  less  ot'  (hat 
lloridity  aiul  inllation  which.  howoviT  uiuU'sirahlc,  in 
(hratt'rt  a  hoiit  tor  writiiujf.  It  would  hvvim  as  if  I  he 
ini<j;i'atit)ii  from  thr  plciisaiit  Hloprs  ami  hif^hlaiuls  nf 
Aiiilhimc  to  tho  wild  honlcr  had  dcprcststMl  any  as|ii- 
ratioii  of  tho  fancy  to  \\iv  Icvi'l  of  the  iMun«<diati'  sui 
roundinufa.  Tho  lack  «>f  cducatit)nal  facilities  oi>cral(ii 
n^jjainst  a  dovcloptncnt  t)f  tastt?  «)n  the  part  of  tlu'  lis- 
in;jj  ujiMicration;  yt't  tho  nature  of  tho  lanjjfuai^c,  jukI 
tho  puui^tilious  chai-actcr  of  tho  people,  ronipensali d 
for  a  disadvantaije  that  among  our  raco  would  Iiavr 
loft  a  more  j^l'iriuii;  <l(>rici(Micy ;  for  tho  lower  classes 
of  Hispano-Americans  display  a  romarkahlo  i'ontct- 
n(»ss  and  fluoncy  of  expression.  The  j^c'nin'al  punctili- 
ousness has  led  to  that  formal  and  forensic  phras(>olo;j:y 
HO  charactoriatic  <»f  Mexican  epistolary  and  narriitivi' 
productions,  and  so  conducive  to  loose  and  involvid 
constrm'tiou,  which  siTvt's  as  additional  hindrance 
to  h(\iuty  and  inten^st.  Nevertludi'ss,  tho  nalinal 
sj)rijj;htliness  will  find  an  outlet,  oven  amid  the  cx.il,'- 
i^oratod  account  of  dangers  and  isolation  on  the  dis- 
tant frontier,  ]m>mptod  by  tho  forlorn  condition  or 
longings  of  tho  exile. 

Several  of  tho  above  writings  have  aeon  tlu^  li^Iit 
in  government  docunuMits,  journals,  ami  collect  ions, 
but  oidy  a  few  within  tho  covers  of  a  special  hook. 
The  earliest  prodm'tion  of  this  kind,  ]>repared  witliiii 
tho  territory  and  by  a  resident,  is  tho  lxrl<u'i<t)i  ///">• 
toriiu  <tv  lo.  Mild  of  .Funiporo  Serra,  founder  of  the 
inissi(i:i:-i.  by  his  companion  and  succes8t>r,  Fraiuisto 
Palou,  printed  at  Mexico  in  1787.  Although  a  hiou^- 
raphy  of  tho  pious  labors  of  an  examplary  friar,  it 
aims  to  give  the  history  of  California  to  I7SM;  ;ui(l 
to  this  end  tho  rhapsodies  and  prolix  dissertations  so 
common  in  such  works  are  almost  entirely  disjxustd 
with.  While  dis]>osed  to  affirm  tho  merits  of  his  li.io 
and  his  order,  Palou  displays  much  good  sense  in  tho 
treatment  of  the  subject,  without  rising  to  any  maiked 


UNDI.M   MEXICAN   UULK. 


:.<•:• 


cxccllcMoy  ill  liiH  iJitluT  prosaic  iiarmtivo.  Tho  suiiic 
;;iuUM(l  is  cuvt'i't'd  with  •^'niitiT  coinidctciH'ss,  iiltli<m^li 
less  «l)ilMnati(»ii,  ill  liis  Aolirliis,  tlir  Hv»ui"i'cH  lor  tin' 
riiiinrr  work,  tlic  |>iil»licjitioii  of  wliicli  i.uiUu  that  of 
the  other  h'ss  lu-cdful  Jit  tlic  tiiiic. 

'I'hf  I'ouiitrv  <li<l  iioi  possess  u  press  until  \H'\'\;  iwul 
ef  lis  |)i'o(Un-tioiis,  h'ss  tiiaii  three  seor<'  in  all,  seven 
jiltained  to  the  respeetahility  of  hook  form.  1'here 
were  the  liiijldiuitiln  iVnrii'ioiKtl,  I  S.'M,  10  pajij;es.  riih'sfor 
t  lie  legislature;  M<uiljui<h>,  l>y(  Governor  l^'ii^ueroji,  IS.'J;'), 
is;{  passes;  Cttln'/smo  <!<■  (>ii(>ln(/l(i,  \ty  ,).  M.  Ivoinero, 
is;!f»,  M)  paj^'es;  /',V'.s'y;or/,sv"o//,  hy  ( 'onian<l!int('-t;eiieral 
\  aMeji>,  IHI57,  -1  I'Ji^es,  su_i^!L;'('stioiis  eoneerniii'^  ti'ade 
iim!  eustoni-house;  llofint  (/ciicrnl dc  lo.'i  linn<<li(>s,  IH'.\H, 
I  (!  paijjes,  i-epi-int  of  a  (^iidiz  inecheinai  paniphh-t; 
('iih'Jni'nid,  ('(nii(i)Klaiin'ii  (icncral,  ('oiiinuicticiinux  (hi 
(Ini'nutlM.  (1.  Vullcjn,  IH.'i;  i>,  2 1  pp.,  !i  collection  «.f 
decrees.  The  last  is  a,  sni'dl  4to,  tl:e  others  vary  fi'oni 
I  Jnio  to  H'Jnio.  '^I'li(>  ini]>rint  of  the  first  three  hooks  is 
Monterey,  the  followinn  are  dated  at  Sonoma.  Later 
tlie  press  was  restored  to  IMonteny,  as  indi<'ated  hy 
llic  (\if(ristiio  (Ir  hi  thxin'iKt,  hy  llipalda,  184'J,  Timo,  H 
I'.i^cs.  In  most  cases  theothei'  printin<jj  was  poor  and  de- 
void of  tast(\  the  type  heinu^  wornand  the  pi('sswar|)ed. 
Tlie  oidv  volunu!  of  any  nretensioji  is  the  Mdii/'lirslt) 


-f  ( 


lovernor  .lost 


Fi.ir 


rui^roa  m  uertMic(>  o 


Ief( 


.f  1 


IIS  admin- 


istration from  ]HlV2  to  IS.'?."),  particularly  in  regard  to 
liis  attitude  towai-d  tlii!  colonization  project  of  llijar 
ini<l  I'atires;  y»'t  it  does  not  rise  ahovi>  thi'  usual  style 
el"  sucli  political  documents  ainonij;  Mexicans.  ]^e- 
siiles  the  ('<fUvis)iin  of  llipalda  repi'inted  here,  the 
tViars  circulated  a  numher  of  catechism-'  and  sermons 
ill  nianuscrints,  which  tlie\'  had  translated  into  dilFcT- 
(lit  native  dialects.  In  this  connection  wcrv  ])roduce<l 
seviM'al  vocahularies  and  ijjrammars,  two  of  which,  hy 
pndres  Arroyo  do  la  Cuesta  and  Sitjar,  form  part  of 


Si 


lea.  s  CO 


llocti 


(m. 


Zulvadea   left  several  translations,  and   President 


i  I 


ill 


596 


EARLY  CALIFORNIA  LITERATLTIE. 


Jill 


Sarria  some  impressive  sermons,  in  autograph.  Friar 
Boscana  prepared  an  account  of  the  customs  and 
myths  of  the  Indians  round  San  Juan  Capistraiic, 
whicli  was  translated  into  EngUsh,  and  printed  :it 
New  York  in  1846,  under  the  title  of  Clmrigchhildi. 
While  condemning  the  superstitions  of  the  natives,  tin- 
friar  himself  displays  a  prejudice  and  leaning  hardiv 
less  excusable;  but  he  strives  for  truth  and  scrks 
naively  to  explain  every  peculiarity.  The  work  was 
issued  as  a  part  of  Life  in  Califomia,  by  Alfred  liob- 
inson,  a  citizen  of  the  United  States,  who  had  f(ir 
several  years  been  established  here  as  a  trader.  His 
proposed  introduction  to  the  CliliiificJihiich  gradually 
I'xpanded  into  a  volume  of  over  200  pages,  hi  wliicli 
from  personal  expfirience  he  describes  places  and  peo- 
ple, scenery,  resources,  and  customs,  together  with  an 
interesting  outline  of  history.  Ai)pearing  at  tlio 
time  the  conquest  of  the  country  was  undertaken  by 
the  United  States,  the  book  created  no  small  atten- 
tion, and  tills  was  sustained  by  the  attractive  nature 
and  treatment  of  the  subject.  A  ready  appreciation 
of  salient  and  interesting  topics  is  apparent,  tempered 
by  a  generous  and  good-natured  spirit,  wliich  led  to 
rose-colored  statements  in  favor  of  his  California 
friends." 

With  the  occupation  by  Americans,  it  was  not  Ion*; 
before  the  characteristic  newspap(,'r  presented  itself, 
beginning  at  ]\ronterey  on  August  15,  184fi,  with  tie 
(\ilifor)iia}>,  under  the  auspices  of  Walter  Colton. 
clinplain  of  the  Un.ited  States  frigate  Coiigresii,  iwA 
llobert  Semple.  It  was  not  an  imposing  specimen  in 
its  foolscap  size,  printed  on  rough  paper  with  worn 
and  deficient  type,  and  with  the  rickety  California 
press  of  1833,  now  rescued  from  a  garret;  but  it  wiis 
pregnant  with  the  patriotic  aspirations  of  the  conquer- 
ors, although  extremely  subservient  to  the  milit.iry 
authorities.  On  January  9th  following,  another  weekly 
paper,  the  California  fitarwas,  issued  at  San  Francisco 


THE  FIRST  AMERICAN  DECADE. 


597 


.*•* 


l)y  the  Mormon,  Sam  Brannan,  assisted  by  E.  P. 
Joiics,  as  editor.'  It  was  larger  and  neater  than  the 
rival  sheet,  but  reflecting  only  too  frequently  the 
sliarp,  coarse  traits  of  the  provincial  lawyer  and  dog- 
matic leader,  as  compared  with  the  fairer  and  gentler 
s[)irit  of  Semple  and  Colton.* 

The  two  papers  were  consolidated  after  the  suspen- 
sion caused  by  the  excitement  attending  the  gold  dis- 
covery, and  merged,  on  January  4,  184i),  into  tlie 
jl'ta  (kilifomia.  Four  months  later  an  oftshoot  ap- 
jM'ared  at  Sacramento  in  the  Placer  Times;  after  this 
sheets  began  to  nmltiply  rapidly  in  towns  and  mining 
camps,  as  elsewhere  fully  related.  Every  party,  class, 
and  nationality  sought  to  be  represented.  The  French 
iiKulo  several  attem[)ts  toestablisli  organs,  tlie  first  in 
January  1850.  The  Spanish  residents  were  courted 
liy  the  Gallic  journals,  but  obtained  a  special  sheet  in 
L834,  while  the  Germans  had  one  two  years  earlier. 
In  September  1850  the  Illustrated  Times  made  a  vain 
liid  for  ftivor  with  cuts,  and  the  early  humorous  and 
i^atiric  sheets,  beiximiing  in  1851  with  the  Ilombre, 
f.ucd  no  better.  Religious  denominations  strove  to 
jiromote  their  efforts  with  the  press,  tlie  Christian  Ob- 
.^rrrcr  of  the  same  year  being  first  in  the  field.  The 
Academy  of  Sciences  began  its  reports  hi  1853,  the 
Agricultural  Society  in  the  following  year;  doctors 
issued  a  journal  in  1855,  and  so  publications  increased. 
Journalistic  •  ntorprlse  in  California  isconnnc^nsurate 
with  the  plicm  .iienal  rise  of  the  country.  Xo  state 
ill  tlie  unioii  can  sliow  so  large  an  average  of  news- 
I'apcr  circulation  among  its  inhabitants.  Even  New 
York  was  f  )r  years  surpassed,  and  the  average  tliere 
amounted  to  nearly  treble  that  of  the  other  states. 
Ill  this  by  no  moans  unenviable  respect,  California 
coiis(!(|uently  stood  foremost  in  tlie  world.  There  has 
iilsi)  existed  a  more  than  ordinary  intimacy  between 
tlu'  press  and  the  public  in  the  interchange  both  of 
iiifonnation  and  opinions.  Moreover,  the  number  of 
j'ti'.sons  engaged  on  nows])a[K;r3  has  been  extraordi- 


irt 


59S 


EARLY  CALIFORNIA  LITERATURE. 


narily  large,  over  one  thousand  figuring  iu  tlil^  coii- 
noctiou  iu  Sau  Francisco  during  the  ten  years  ending 
in  1858.  During  its  earher  period  such  a  press  must 
have  been  very  partisan  in  character,  the  medium  df 
chques,  rather  than  of  tlio  pubHc,  organ  instead  of 
mentor,  rising  and  falhng  with  parties  and  interests, 
fluctuating  like  its  fickle  sup[)orters.  The  journals  of 
the  eastern  states  maintained  a  large  share  of  patron- 
age till  tlie  telegraph  drove  tliem  back;  railroads  ef- 
fected local  revolutions  of  equal  importance. 

It  may  bo  readily  understood  that  this  instability 
has  not  tended  to  establish  a  high  character  for  hon- 
esty, learning,  or  originality  among  the  ioui 'u/ists. 
They  have  not  been  chosen  from  the  fitter.!  rai.  "ir 
that  matter,  but  from  all  grades  of  society,  ana  die 
result  is  evident  in  the  material  tliey  furnish,  chiefly 
made  to  fill  space,  and  to  serve  some  personal  end  or 
prejudice,  and  framed  in  language  by  no  means  of  tin? 
choicest,  displaying  numerous  errors  in  grammar,  many 
Americanisms,  and  nmcli  vulgar  slang.  In  tlu'so 
respects  it  may  not  be  below  the  average  througliout 
America,  which  compares  ratlier  unfavorably  witli  tlie 
European,  but  tlie  taste  for  tiio  sensational  adds  a 
fiviture  to  the  many  undesirable  elements  in  tlii-; 
medium  for  popular  education  and  guidance.  It  ini)>t 
be  conceded,  however,  that  California  is  not  devoiil  of 
journals  and  newspaper  productions  of  a  hi;jli(  i' 
oa*der,  and  bright  with  promise. 

Among  prominent  editors  may  be  named  Cilhc.t 
and  Kemble,  who  established  the  A\Ui,  the  fornui', 
the  first  elected  congressman  for  California,  l)ein;4  '\ 
high-mhuled  though  foolish  fellow,  who  fell  in  a  <lii  1 
f(.f  his  ])rinciples;  Soule  and  Nesbit,  associated  on 
tlie  first  history  of  San  Francisco;  the  versatile  N'oali 
Brooks;  Avery,  sometime  minister  to  China;  Johu 
S.  Hittell,  the  well-knoW):  statistical  writer;  tlie  pun- 
ijent  Frank  Pixloy;  George,  the  author  of  I^rn'in^ 
(Did  Povcrtij;  Gorhain,  Bartlett,  G.  K.  Fitch,  Si  . 
bouLjh,  George  H.  Fitch  and  John  P.  Young  of  the 


if;' 


THE  FIRST  AMERICAN  DECADE. 


599 


Chronicle,  T.  T,  Williams  of  the  Post,  Jerome  A.  Hart 
of  the  Argonaut,  John  P.  Irish  of  the  Alia,  and  S.  C. 
Carrington  of  the  Sacrainoiito  Record- Union.  On  this 
last  journal  was  once  George  Frederic  Parsons,  later 
literary  editor  of  the  New  York  IVibune,  and  one  of 
the  ablest  writers  in  Ajnerica. 

In  early  times  purely  literary  efforts  did  not  receive 
adequate  su[)port,  owing  to  the  unsettled  condition  of 
society.  Later  the  wider  range  and  superior  charac- 
ter of  eastern  periodicals  attracted  too  niucli  of  [)ul)lic 
attention,  and  humorous,  satirical,  and  critical  journals 
can  alone  be  said  to  have  flourished.  The  best  early 
paper  of  this  latter  class  was  the  lion-ton  Critic,  issued 
in  Marcli  1854,  and  the  latest  is  the  Arejoncmt.  Never- 
tlicless,  there  have  been  repeated  attempts  to  establish 
literary  publications.  The  first,  the  weekly  Golden  Era, 
dated  from  December  1852  ;  but  its  pages  contained  a 
largo  pro[)ortion  of  newspaper  matter,  and  were  suited 
rather  for  the  taste  of  the  less  exacting  portions  of  the 
rural  and  mining  [)opulation.  Of  similar  papers  none 
have  equalled  it  in  poi)ularity.  The  first  monthly  issue 
of  a  higher  order  was  the  Pioneer,  publislied  in  January 
1854,  and  continuing  for  two  years.  The  c^ditor  was 
F.  C  Ewer,  later  well-known  on  the  Atlantic  side  as 
a  high-church  episcopalian  clergyman.  The  articles 
consisted  chiefly  of  semi-historical  and  descriptive 
pieces,  interspersed  with  more  poems  than  tales  or 
novelettes,  and  closing  with  a  review  of  events,  soci- 
ety, arts,  and  sciences,  somewhat  too  staid,  perhaps, 
f  >r  the  period. 

James  M.  Hutchinnrg  fancied  that  he  understood 
tlic  public  tf;ste  better,  and  in  his  California  Matjuziiif, 
begun  in  July  1850,  he  introduced  a  larger  portion  of 
light  matter,  with  s[)ecial  atttMition  to  humt)rous 
sk(>tel;es.  The  size  was  somewhat  reduced,  and  the 
editor's  department  cut  down,  but  the  [)ages  received 
instead  the  addition  of  wood-cuts,  of  a  mediocre  and 
at  times  decidedly  trashy  stamp,  like  much  of  the 
tux.t,     It  existed  for  five  years,  improving  somewhat 


»       ri 


600 


EARLY  CALIFORNIA  LITERATURE. 


toward  the  close  in  tone.  It  might  have  lived  longer 
hut  for  the  rivalry  of  The  Jlesperian,  started  in  May 
1858,  as  a  seuii- monthly  journal  of  literature  and  art, 
and  consisting  largely  of  items.  Mrs  F.  H.  Day,  who 
soon  took  sole  charge,  converted  this  with  the  secoucl 
volume  into  a  monthly  maga/ine,  of  a  higher  order 
than  the  preceding,  with  a  juvenile  department,  with 
more  reflective  and  instructive  articles,  and  witli  a 
few  excellent  illustrations.  It  changed  in  18G3  to 
The  Pac'JiG  Monthly,  under  less  firm  editorship,  and  died 
not  long  afterward.  The  contcanporary  California 
"^Iniazim,  with  its  predominance  of  novels  and  fas]iit)ii 
IS,  appealed  to  the  fair  sex.  The  California  J/o/o/- 
tau^eer,  begun  at  Tuolumne  in  1861  by  H.  S.  Brooks, 
adopted  some  features  of  the  early  Ha^perlan,  and  a 
number  of  less  notable  magazines  sprang  up  at  inter- 
vals to  seek  a  share  of  favor.* 

Finally,  in  18G8,  appeared  the  Overland  Monthnj, 
the  hightost  of  its  class,  and  started  under  the  editor- 
ship of  Bret  Harte,  who  was  then  rising  into  fume. 
His  contributions  to  it,  during  a  period  of  two  years 
and  a  half,  were  indeed  a  main  feature,  and  gave  no 
small  impulse  to  the  circulation,  besides  bringing  tlie 
writer  into  that  notice  v  lich  later  drew  him  to  wider 
fields  in  the  eastern  states  and  Europe.  A  mass  (»f 
slumbering  talent  was  awakened  by  this  medium,  and 
their  scattered  offerings  in  prose  and  verse  have  since 
in  several  instances,  reappeared  in  special  books. 
Harte's  pieces  formed  an  important  feature  of  tlm  e 
large  volumes,  and  so  with  Coolbrith,  W.  C.  Bartlett, 
Avery,  J.  Miller,  Clarence  King,  Stoddard,  Clitl'ord, 
Cremony,  Scammon,  Victor,  and  others,  who  shall  l)e 
noticed  in  due  course.  Bartlett  assumed,  temporarily, 
the  editorial  chair,  until  Avery  accepted  it.  After 
his  departure  as  minister  to  Cliina,  the  magazine  de- 
clined and  was  suspended  in  December,  1875.  The 
original  publisher,  A.  Roman,  revived  it  in  Januaiy 
1880,  under  the  title  of  the  Californian,  which  tliree 
years  later  merged  into  the  Overland  MunOdy  a;j,ain, 


THE  FIRST  AMERICAN  DECADE. 


001 


called  the  second  series.  It  has  ever  adhered  to  the 
])roclaiined  mission  of  "developing  the  country,"  by 
devoting  a  proportionately  large  space  to  instructive 
and  tlescriptive  articles  concerning  the  coast.  These, 
indeed,  form  its  best  material,  and  next  ranks  the 
poetry,  which,  despite  its  doubtful  admixture  is  de- 
cidedly superior  to  the  average  fiction.  Its  influence, 
like  tliat  of  the  preceding  magazines,  has  been  less 
marked  in  directing  i)ublic  taste,  over  which  the 
newsi)apers  and  tlio  eastern  ])eriodicals  exercise 
greater  control;  l>ut  it  has  rendered  good  service  in 
fosterino  local  talent,  and  in  bringing  new  writo's  into 
notice,  e\  on  beyond  our  borders. 

No  country  has  probably  roused  so  sudden,  wide- 
spread, and  intense  an  interest  as  did  California,  wiien 
rc'[)()rts  of  her  gold-beds  Hashed  throughout  the  world. 
The  discovery  of  Columbus  did  not  attract  half  the 
attention,  and  the  invasions  of  the  Tartar  and  Cres- 
cent hordes  failed  to  create  the  same  excitement,  even 
in  Europe,  partly  because  news  travelled  slowly  in 
those  days,  and  overspread  the  world  so  gradually  as 
ti>  lose  its  efVect.  What  scenes,  what  incidents,  what 
budding  fancies  are  not  associated  with  this  last  great 
liegira  and  its  halt  at  this  earth's  end  1  Books  innu- 
iiitrable  have  alluded  to,  or  dwelled  at  length  on, 
tliiise  romantic  j)hases ;  and  not  a  periodical  out  of 
the  thousands  existing  but  has  added  to  the  halo  sur-- 
rounding  the  namo  of  California. 

Hut  the  most  valuable  of  all  material  for  the  history 
of  California  lies  in  the  tliousand  manuscrii)t  dicta- 
tions and  experience  of  tliose  who  helped  to  make  tlie 
history  of  the  country,  and  whicli  I  have  been  accu- 
mulating during  the  last  quarter  of  a  century.  ^Fany 
of  the  early  settlers  wrote  or  dictated  matter  whicli 
swelled  into  ponderous  works,  sometimes  of  four  and 
five  volumes,  and  covering  all  subjects,  frt»in  sober 
liistorv  to  romantic  tales,  from  reviews  of  natural 
tcatures  and  industrial  resources  to  social  types  and 


602 


EARLY  CALIFORNIA  LITERATURE. 


amenities.  Some,  like  Salvador,  the  Indian  fi^litfr, 
and  Amador,  a  name  commemorated  in  that  of  a 
country,  tell  their  story  in  the  blunt  stylo  of  the 
mountaineer  and  soldier;  others,  like  Vicente  (^omc/,, 
rely  on  ptuntcd  anecdotes  and  racy  humor ;  still 
others,  like  Torres,  Jaussens,  Hijar,  Arce,  and  Fer- 
nandez, are  intent  on  certain  episodes ;  Botello  aiul 
Coronel  on  formality  of  style,  at  the  expense  of 
freshness  and  vigor ;  while  a  large  number  saorificL- 
essential  elements  of  history  to  the  feeling  of  import- 
ance which  i)ervades  mem  in  being  called  upon  to  es- 
timate men  and  events.  They  are,  above  all,  im- 
pressed with  a  desire  to  perpetuate  their  own 
achievements,  to  glorify  the  Cfp  and  proceed  witli 
their  narrative,  as  if  truth  were  an  incidental  ratlicr 
than  i)rimary  requirement.  While  prolix  and  full  of 
details,  they  care  little  for  exactness,  and  geiural 
ideas  and  plans  are  lost  sight,  of  in  the  aim  to  apjily  a 
certain  colonng,  and  to  create  effect.  Scqumcc 
and  com[)letoness  are  so  little  regarded  as  to  stamp 
most  elforts  as  unsatisfactory  and  fragmentary.  The 
humorous  is  not  neglected,  however,  and  the  narra- 
tives are  frequently  enlivened  with  some  bright  sally 
i.r  good  story.  But  for  all  this,  as  I  have  said,  used 
with  proper  care  and  discrimination,  they  constitute 
the  very  foundation  of  California  history. 

Governor  Pio  Pico  may  be  regarded  as  the  repre- 
sentative of  a  class,  in  his  disjohited  and  contradictory 
volume.  Manuel  Castro  is  more  connected  and  tku  nt 
and  clear,  but  unscrupulous  in  his  skillfully  wovdi 
tissues.  Oslo,  on  the  other  hand,  is  swayed  by  pi'«ju- 
dices,  despite  himself.  He  is  also  uneven  in  treat- 
ment and  stylo,  beginning  his  character  sketches  and 
scenes  with  animation,  and  evincino;  considerable  apti- 
tude  as  he  proceeds,  only  to  digress  and  leave  t.u m 
unfinished,  or  even  to  contradict  liiuiself  on  latir 
pages.  In  the  same  maimer  pleasingly  told  paragraphs 
are  frequi'ntly  broken  by  crude  ancl  puerile  phrases, 
This  caprice  is  greatly  due  to  the  infirmity  of  age,  as 


^[ANUSCRI^T  DICTATIONS. 


603 


revealed  in  garrulous  details.  Governor  Alvarado  is 
))()sitive,  rather  than  prejudiced,  and  supplies  a  vast 
amount  of  information,  marked  by  a  clear  judgment. 
J^andini  conveys  his  loss  valuable  memoirs  under  a 
[iretentious  title,  and  regards  them  evidently  as  ad- 
niiral)le ;  yet  he  disclaims  any  attempt  at  writing 
liistory,  or  any  striving  r>r  elegance  and  method,  and 
tliis  declaration  he  certainlv  adheres  to.  Far  more 
accei)table  are  Botello's  records,  and  still  more  .so  the 
imposing  tomes  of  (General  Vallejo,  a  man  indiued 
with  enthusiastic  regard  for  the  history  of  his  country, 
as  well  as  for  his  contributions  to  it.  This  zeal  leads 
hiin  often  to  exaggerate,  but  the  reader  cannot  fail  to 
1)0  impressed  by  his  sincerity  and  striving  for  truth, 
and  readily  overlooks  an  all-pervading  pom[)ousiiess, 
which  for  that  matter  accords  not  ill  witli  his  services 
and  prestige.  He  cond)ines  strong  descrii)tive  power 
with  duo  ai)prcciation  for  fitn(>ss.  Notwithstanding 
tlio  several  peculiarities  of  the  Latin  race,  where  the 
evidence  is  so  full  the  truth  can  always  1)0  reached. 
Side  by  side  with  the  re'^ollections  of  Hispano-Cal- 
ifornians,  which  apply  chietly  to  Mexican  times,  I 
liave  arranged  on  mv  library  shelves  those  of  Ameri- 
(•ail  and  other  pioneers,  which  are  even  more  numer- 
ous, and  relate  to  the  journey  out,  to  the  con(|ue.st  i)y 
the  United  States,  to  the  gold  di.scovery,  and  to  the 
subsequent  develo[>ment.  They  are  more  matter  of 
fact  and  exact,  but  while  questions  are  consi(kn'ed 
with  due  regard  to  their  importance,  the  style  savors 
too  frequently  of  the  free-and-easy  intercourse  of 
I  arlv  (lavs,  and  compares  unfavorably  with  the  more 
dignilied  tone  and  choicer  diction  of  the  ]\Iexieans. 
This  inferiority  i)elongs  only  to  a  class,  however;  for 
th(}  rest,  headed  by  sucli  men  as  Senator  Gwin  and 
generals  Sutter  and  Bidwell,  exhibit  admirable  fea- 
tares  in  treatment  and  language. 

The  influx  of  gold-seekers  i<;norant  of  the  country, 
Its  resources,  and   the   methods   in   vogue,   led  to  the 


'v<m 


604 


EAULY  CALIKOUXIA  LITKUATUUR 


ciirly  publiciiiion  of  hooks  for  tlu'ir  ^uiclanco,  aiuoiiii; 
the  iirst  of  tlio  kiiul  heiiiLif  ('iilifoniin  as  it  /.s\  (iinl  as  // 
'111(11/  he,  Sail  Franci.sro,  IS41>,  Hvo,  7(5  pai^cs.  \>\-  I-'. 
J*.  WiiTzUicki,  a  l\)lc,  wIk)  is  said  to  liavc  made  a  con- 
Hi(li'ral)l(>  sum  of  money  by  its  saii\  .loliii  .).  W'orlli 
followed  with  A  I)iss(rt(itii>)i  oti  llir  HiSdinrcs,  lieiiicia. 
1851;  and  then  came  (-ranein  1805,  Jiushnell,  \)r 
(iroot,  Truman,  Menefec,  Hutehinsjjs,  and  a  host  ot 
more  or  less  special  treatises,  some  referi'iiiLj  only  to 
certain  counties  or  districts.  A  larger  numher  would 
no  douht  luive  heen  issued  in  early  years  had  not  tlic 
eastern  states  and  Kuro|)(i  anticipated  the  moveimnt 
l»y  a  Hood  of  hooks  and  pamphlets,  some  prepai'cd  hv 
roturned  miners,  others  compiled  from  dilfeieiit 
sourct's.  Their  incompleteness  and  misstatements  in- 
duced John  S.  llittell  in  IHCtl)  to  issue  T/ic  Hcsdiii-ctx 
(>/ ra///hn/m,  which  s[)eedily  passed  through  several 
editions,  one  of  which  attained  a  local  ])rize,  oH't  red 
for  a  hook  of  this  charactc  r,  ])repari'd  wholly  from 
material  which  might  he  ohtained  within  the  stah'. 
Its  success  led  to  the  puhlication  in  I^OS  of  T/ic  Aat- 
•ural  WcaUJi. of  Calif ornia,  and  laterof  the  CnuiiiH'nr  (iinl 
LidnHtricfi  of  the  Paci'llr  Coast,  the  most  comprehensi\  t 
niul  exhaustive  work  on  the  country.  I^oih  are  cin- 
hellished  with  cuts  and  conij)lemonte(l  hy  historic  and 
geographic  sketches,  yet  not  suflicicMitly  digested 
ami  elahorated.  Both  of  these  h>ading  works  were 
issued  under  my  auspices.  In  Tfie  (ioldni  State,  hy  li. 
Gu\'  McClellan,  there  are  sketches  of  the  other 
J\icific  states.  I.  I.  Powvll  ])rovi(les  a  similar 
work  on  Nevada,  whose  silver  mines  liad  heen  calliii-; 
universal  attention  to  this  region.  Mrs  Victors 
works  on  Oregon  and  Washin'jjtoii  excel  in  a  descrin- 
tivo  \io\v  and  sprightly  tone  that  impart  a  parti<'ular 
charm.  To  this  class  may  l)o  added  directories,  which 
embody  umch  historic  and  statistical  matter,  and  give 
testimony  of  the  progress  made  by  p()i)ulation  and 
industries.  The  first  was  issued  at  San  Francisco  in 
Se[)tembor  1850  by  Charles  V.  Kimball.' 


EFFECT  OF  (iOLD. 


605 


For  sc^vcral  ycarH  after  the  <;()kl  excitement  cverv- 
tliiiii;  coiiccniiniij  California  was  road  witli  avi(lit\ , 
partly  intorwovoii  in  novels,  partly  in  t'(jually  alluriii;^ 
narratives  of  travel  and  life,  basi-d  on  personal  e\- 
peiii'iu'es,  njoi'u  or  k;.ss  colored,  and  duo  cliielly  to  tlie 
pens  of  eye-witnosfses,  such  as  K.  (^ould  iJufluni. 
prominent  in  the  stati;  since  IH47  as  lii'uteiiant  of 
Steviiuson's  volunteers,  as  mend)cr  of  tlie  K'iiislature, 
and  journalist.  lie  »'onmiitte<l  suicide  at  J'aris  in 
ISOS,  leaviiijj;  the  manusci'ipt  for  Li<jld>i  and  >'<<ii.s(ih'<)')is 
ill.  France  to  he  [)rinted  hy  a  hi-other.  His  >S'/j*  Moiillifi 
ill  the  (I'ohl  Miiie.^  is  tiisjointed,  hoth  in  j)lan  and  style, 
uiidt>r  the  pnsssure  «tf  a  huriied  puhlic;vtion.  It  was 
issued  in  1850  at  Philadel[)hia,  as  the  hetter  market; 
l»ut  similar  narratives  heujan  to  apjx-ar  within  the 
country,  at  first  in  newsjtaper  colunms,  and  o|-adually 
ill  hook  form,  anions^  tlu!  first  heiii":^  (.'arson's  Karhj 
h'rrolk'clliDif!,  HU)('\iU>i\,  fM;V2,  which  is  even  less  fin- 
ished than  the  preceding,  and  intended  chiefly  for  an 
riiiigrant  guide. 

77/6'  Cal/Joriiia  nh/rini,  hy  J.  A.  Benton,  ])rinted  at 
Sacramento  in  JSr)t5,  is  an  end)odimt;nt  of  scenes  wit- 
nessed and  characters  encountered  in  towns,  camps, 
and  country,  hut  descrihed  as  seen  hy  the  writiT  in  a 
<heam,  and  in  imitation  of  J^unyan's  treatment  and 
style,  yet  with  an  admixtui'e  of  ordinary  dialogue  on 
cvery-day  to})ics,  political  and  social,  an<l  with  moral 
reflections  at  tin;  end  of  the  chapters,  licre  called  lec- 
tures, for  as  such  they  had  heen  originally  delivered. 
In  tlie  same  year  Delano  hegan  the  Jj/J'e  on  flic  Plains 
and  other  sketciies,  which  have  procured  for  liim  a 
place  among  the  humorists.  With  the  estahlishment 
in  t854  of  the  monthly  magazine,  narratives  of  this 
kind  received  a  more  appropriate  repository,  and  ac- 
cordinijlv  ureater  elahoration  than  those  destined  for 
mere  news[)apers.  In  the  Pioneer  is  a  long  serial 
piece,  ('alifo'niia  in  icS';'/,  hy  Shirley,  running  througli 
its  four  volumes,  and  remarkahle  for  this  tinu;  it  Ix'ing 
from  the   i)en  of  a  woman.     It  is  in  ei)istolary  form, 


■m 


■1 


:l:''i 


606 


EARLY  CALIFORXIA  UTERATURE. 


Hliowinn;  aculturt'd  iniiid  and  fcininiiio  gr  pe,  yet  with 
some  cliaractfristic  detects  in  [)rt)lixity  and  trivialities. 
Another  resident  female,  Mrs  Farnliain,  prt'[)ar('d 
about  the  same  time  a  more  t'<»rnial  and  ^jfosaic  ac- 
count, full  of  valuable  information,  but  also  witli  an 
excessive  intrusion  of  her  })rivate  troubles,  colored  in- 
religious  thoughts.  It  was  published  at  New  York 
in  1850,  as  the  first  book  written  by  her  sex  in  and 
on  the  country.  The  Captivitij  of  the  Oatmau  Girls 
may  also  be  regarded  as  a  woman's  narrative,  al- 
thougli  edited  by  a  man,  R.  13.  Stratton,  also  a  nsi- 
dent  Californian.  In  a  preface  to  the  second  edition 
he  seeks  to  remove  tlie  doubts  cast  upon  his  literary 
taste  for  indulging  in  florid  and  melodramatic  stylo. 
The  latter  served  well  with  the  readers  of  such  mit- 
ter  to  convey  a  harrowing  effect,  and  so  rapidly  did 
the  two  California  editions  of  1857  S(!ll  thattlic  book 
was  in  18.")8  issmd  at  New  York.  A  favorable  con- 
trast is  presented  in  the  natural  and  a[)propriate  tono 
o^  The  Advoif arcs  of  James  Capoi  Adam."^,  San  Fran- 
cisco, 1860,  wherein  Theodore  Hittell  relates  tlie  life 
of  a  mountaineer  and  bear  hunter. 

The  publication  in  San  Francisco  in  1857  o^Travch 
on  the  Western  Slope  of  the  We^^tern  Cordillera  nmst  bo 
attributed  rather  to  the  closer  interest  which  S.in 
Francisco  was  supposed  to  take  in  the  resources  .-mil 
features  of  this  region  ;  yet  it  indicates  a  remarkable 
confidence  in  the  bent  for  readin<j:  amoii'j:  Californians, 
tlic  more  so  since  the  information  is  imparted  in  a  series 
of  short  and  prosy  letters.  Ijcss  pretentious  in  size, 
but  more  attractively  written,  is  Stewart's  I^mt  of  fl,e 
Filihmsfers,  Sacramento,  1857,  relating  to  Walk(>r's 
Nicaragua  expedition.  To  these  new  fields  for  tho 
pen  was  added  another  in  Seve)i  Years'  Street  French  in fj 
in  San  Frandsc/),  by  Reverend  William  Taylor,  pub- 
lished the  same  year,  but  in  New  York.  It  was  not 
likely  to  engage  the  attention  of  the  rollicking  people 
on  this  coast,  for  the  book  treats  almost  exclusively  of 
religious  efforts  in  dens  and  alleys  among  the  ruder 


SECOND  DECADE. 


0'j7 


(lassos,  and  with  a  mouotoiKms  sainoness  of  both  siib- 
joct  and  language.  His  Cah'/oniia  Llji\  published 
two  years  later,  is  nioro  varied,  and  gives  an  instrue- 
tivo  aceount  of  society  and  development.  Numerous 
illustrations  have  been  added,  altliough  some  of 
them  hardly  accord  with  the  predominating  religious 
strain.  About  the  same  time  appeared  a  number  of 
minor  publications  bearing  on  the  vigilance  movements, 
notably  McGowan's  Narrative,  which  relates  his  })er- 
secution  by  the  popular  tribunal  and  his  escapes,  to- 
gether with  a  defence  of  his  career  as  a  politician. 

Such  is  the  outline  of  a  characteristic  class  of  books 
presented  to  the  public  during  the  first  decade.  The 
same  range  of  subjects  continues  to  attract  writers, 
l)ut  while  pioneers  still  cling  to  the  golden  dreams  of 
early  days,  others  follow  the  i)rogressive  phases 
around  them,  in  stvlo  as  well  as  theme.  Lack  of  due 
care  and  elaboration  still  mark  tlicir  eiforts;  neverthe- 
less, there  is  a  manifest  improvement,  due  no  less  to 
11 10  emulative  example  of  jiromincnt  eastern  competi- 
tors than  to  the  refining  influence  of  a  society  now 
a[)proaching  the  normal  family  proportion,  and  to 
ready  intercourse  with  other  countries. 

A  striking  feature  is  the  predilection  for  liumor, 
roflocting  the  boisterous  times  of  1849,  and  tlio  conviv- 
ialities of  a  community  consisting  almost  entirely  of 
Ixichelors,  with  the  varied  aspects  of  a  cosmo- 
politan people.  Another  trait  is  the  love  for 
scenery,  indirectly  strengthened  no  doubt  during 
the  toilsome  march  over  plains,  ranges,  and  deserts, 
or  the  irksome  voyage  by  soa.  The  monotony  of 
t];o  route,  heightened  by  the  dullness  an.l  hardship, 
caused  the  newly  found  country  to  be  invested  by  the 
Weary  wanderer  with  exceeding  fairness,  a  picture 
gilded  in  course  of  time  by  bright  memories.  The 
newcomers  hailed,  besides,  from  a  ruder  clime,  in  com- 
parison with  which  the  present  seemed  a  perennial 
si)ring,  an  Arcadia  festooiKMl  with  vines,  and  shaded 
by  cypress  and  fig-trees,  varied  by  snow-tippetl  peaks 


i 


ill 


\ 
I 


COS 


KARLY  CALIFORNIA  LITERATURE. 


and  mighty  canons,  with  spouting  geysers  and  stately 
trees,  witli  cloud-enbosomed  lakes  and  winding  cav- 
erns. 

It  is  impossible  not  to  feel  the  influence  of  scenery 
so  grand  and  beautiful,  and  Californians  may  well  he 
pardoned  for  dwelling  with  fondness  upon  it.  Tin  v 
display  their  admiration  not  alone  in  books,  but  in  the 
enjoyment  of  nature  by  summer  sauntorings  and  camp- 
ing e.Kpetlitions.  The  numerous  descriptions  given  in 
periodicals,  guide-books,  and  more  pretentious  works 
are  a  fair  record  of  wide  experience.  Foremost 
among  such  sketches  must  be  placed  Clarence  King's 
Mnmdalneerinf)  in  the  Sierra  Nevada,  written  originally 
for  a  California  magazine  amid  tlie  scenes  de])ict(  d. 
and  by  one  who  has  long  been  connected  with  the 
country.  Lofty  summits  and  rugged  cliffs  attract  liini 
most,  with  mantling  glaciers  in  their  encroachments  on 
border  vegetation.  His  spirit  rcspon'^'s  to  the  inspir- 
ing vistas  that  unfold  on  every  side  t  the  circliiin; 
shades  of  forests  to  grccn-clad  slope  1  into  peace- 

ful dales  half  shrouded  in  misty  blue,  and  his  descri})- 
tion  comes  forth  in  the  same  variegated  colors  of 
language,  mingled  with  thrilling  accounts  of  adven- 
tures, vivid  j)()rtrayals  of  character,  romantic  episodes, 
and  touches  of  quaint  humor.  Popular  appreciation 
is  shown  by  the  issue,  in  1882,  of  a  sixth  edition.  His 
contributions  to  the  reports  of  the  geological  survey 
of  California  have  earned  for  him  an  enviable  reputa- 
tion. The  picturesque  is  generally  aftccted,  and  fre- 
quently  attained,  in  such  books  as  Truman 's/SV»''-/w])^((// 
California  and  Occidental  Sketches,  Turrill's  California 
Notes,  Powell's  Wonders,  Avery's  California  Pictims, 
and  a  host  of  others,  aiming  to  instruct  the  immigrant 
or  guide  the  visitor.  The  style  of  Avery,  for  a  time 
editor  of  the  Overland,  and  later  minister  to  China,  is 
fluent  and  harmonious,  but  there  is  a  tiresome  same- 
ness of  scenes  and  a  marked  subordination  of  topic  to 
diction. 


SECON'I)  DECADE. 


cm 


Sociotvajul  iiistitutioiiH  oil  tl i is  romoto  ocean  border 
sjUJiiii;- u|>  a.s  it  well'  in  a  day,  with  their  stian!j;e  eoiii- 
iiiiii^liii;^'  of  raees,  «»f  th'eaiiiy  indoleiiee  and  .stupendous 
stl•ivill;^^  of  ;4htteriiii^ac(juisition  and  reckless  [a-odi^ali- 
tv  these  topics  funiisli  cver-alluriiiiif  sources  for  pen 
and  eye,  as  instanced  in  the  sketclu^s  of  .1  l<(  i'ulifornia 
by  Evans.  With  keen  observation  aiul  (juick  apprecia- 
tion of  tlie  beautiful,  the  useful,  and  the  droll,  ho 
seized  u[)onall  salient  features  of  scenery,  develo|)nient, 
and  characteras  tlu^y  passed  before  him  durin*.;  a  series 
of  trips  throui^h  the  country,  and  fixed  the  pictures 
with  fresh  and  })leasin^  touches,  addinjjf  now  sonu>  ex- 
cellent des('ri[)tivi;  bit,  now  some  luilicrous  trait  or 
racy  anecdote.  If  they  lack  finish  and  symmetry, 
tliey  are  at  least  interesting  in  subject,  and  s})arkling 
in  treatment. 

The  book  was  published  at  San  Francisco  in  1H73, 
after  his  sad  eiul  on  the  Atlantic,  while  on  the  wav'  to 
^ffxico.  He  had  visited  that  country  in  1809-70 
with  Seward's  party,  and  left  a  record  of  his  observa- 
tions in  Oar  H'n^frr  Iic/tiihllc,  Hartford,  IH70,  of  ths 
same  tyi)e  as  the  preceding,  although  somewhat  more 
connected.  A  large  part  of  his  checkered  career  as 
pioneer,  soldier,  lawyer,  banker,  and  writer  was  spent 
in  California,  chiefly  in  connection  with  tlie  press. 
l[e  wrote  for  eastern  journals,  and  his  works  are 
chiefly  culled  from  pul)lished  articles  and  letters. 

A  marked  tendeiun'  in  all  such  sketches  is  to  exajx- 
gerato  in  order  to  strengthen  the  story,  and  this  has 
I'lH'n  the  case  particularly  with  the  gold  discovery 
period.  Tiie  reader  may  seldom  object,  but  it  cer- 
tainly touches  the  feelings  of  many  a  class  and  fre- 
<|uent  protests  have  been  uttered.  In  A  PIcfarc  of 
l*i())icer  'rimes,  William  Gray  makes  a  s{)ecial  effort  in 
this  direction,  while  seeking  to  impress  his  own  not 
wliolly  unselfish  or  unprejudiced  views  about  men  and 
events.  The  narrative  is  plain,  though  gossipy,  and 
interspersed  with  a  number  of  racy  anecilotes.  The 
Liijlits  and  Shades  in  San  Francisco,  by  Lloyd,  dwells 

Essays  and  Miscellany     39 


I 


■I 


m 


<  't 
I 


610 


EARLY  CALIFORNIA  LITERATURE. 


on  later  aspects  of  society  and  institutions,  witli  a 
sensational  partiality  for  low  life,  while  Isabelle  Saxon 
in  her  Five  Years  Within  flie  Golden  Gate,  and  other 
contributions,  depicts  rather  the  superior  classes. 
There  is  a  strange  mixture  of  credulity  and  good 
sense  in  her  observations,  marked,  also,  by  the  ratjior 
stubborn  English  idea  of  fitness,  and  by  a  refreshing 
absence  of  feminine  diffusion,  Mrs  Bates'  Four  Ycar^ 
on  the  Pacific  Coast,  stands  midway  between  the  two 
in  treatment  and  in  describing  interior  village  and 
minintx  life.  Of  a  hiijher  (;rade  are  Kirchhoff's  //r/Vr- 
hildes,  and  W.  ]M.  Fisher's  Californians,  the  latter 
forminij  a  series  of  clever  character  sketches,  ajixit 
somewhat  strained  and  pedantic.  W.  Wright,  long  a 
journalist  on  the  coast  and  writing  under  different 
noms  de  plume,  chiefly  that  of  Dan  De  Quillc,  pre- 
sents in  the  History  of  the  liif)  Bonanza  a  curious  med- 
ley of  histimcal  facts  and  humorous  phases  of  society 
in  connection  with  a  mining  excitement  that  brouglit 
about,  in  a  measure,  tlie  repetition  of  flusli  times  of 
El  Dorado,  and  raised  Nevada  from  a  county  appeii- 
daire  to  a  state.  It  is  full  of  stirriin'  incidents  and 
anecdotes,  and  delights  in  rough  characters  and  dia- 
lects ;  but  the  illustrations  are,  as  a  rule,  more  amus- 
ing than  the  too  frequently  strained  attempts  to 
imitate  Mark  Twain. 


A  central  picture  in  sketches  of  California  society 
has  ever  been  accorded  to  the  Cliinese,  who  with 
extreme  conservatism,  preserve  almost  intact  tlieir 
peculiar  customs  in  the  midst  of  hostile  and  absorbing 
elements.  They  occui)y  ^  district  wholly  to  tlieni- 
selvcs,  where  their  curious  habits  form  a  never-endiii:.,' 
source  of  interest  to  other  nationalities,  and  the  visitor 
ma}'  gather  a  very  fair  idea  of  the  Celestial  cni[>ire 
from  this  miniature.  The  most  comprehensive  ac- 
counts of  tlieni  have  been  furnished  by  the  missiona- 
ries Loomis,  Speer,  and  (Gibson,  here  established.  Tlio 
former  contributed   his   in  a  scries  of  articles  to  the 


SECOND  DECADE. 


611 


Overland;  Speer'sswcHed  to  a  bulky  volume,  Tlie  Ohlrnf 
(nid  NcwcM  Empire,  with  his  previous  experiences  in 
C'hina,  and  with  lenothly  arguments  in  answer  to 
their  traducers  and  political  assailants.  In  this  Gibson 
supplements  liim  in  his  Chiiiette  ix  Awcricn,  IS77. 
Tiieir  religious  tone  and  partisan  spirit  have  afforded 
room  for  additional,  though  less  extensive,  observa- 
tions from  different  standpoints. 

Anoth.er  class  of  recollections  pertains  more  directly 
to  travels.      Stillman's  Scckivu  (lie  Ciohlm  Finer  is  oc- 
cupied chiefly  with  his  voj'age  out  round  Cnj)e  Horn, 
iiiid  the  return  journey  hy  way  of  Nicaragua  in  f850, 
with  an  intermediate  diary  of  incidents  in  California. 
The  a]^pearance  of  the  book  is  too  j>retentious  for  the 
crude  journal  it  ond)odies,  and  the  incoherency  and 
want  of  polish  ap[)ears  greater  when  comjian  d  with 
an  introiluction  on  the  gold  excitenunt,  which  revtals 
tliat  the   author   had   the  ability  to  revise  liis  woik. 
1'he  L(t(j  of  an    Aiivind  Mariiirr,    by  Cai)tain   Wake- 
man,  may  be  termed  a  series  of  yarns,  with  (tccasion- 
ally  humorous  passages,  spun  by  a  blunt  and  some- 
what conceited  yet  good-natured  sailor,  in  connectic^n 
with  his  cruises,  chieffy  along  this  coast,  to  which  he 
hi'longs  since    184I>.     The   book  was  edited    by  his 
(laugliter,  who  carefully  preserves  the  quaint  dialect  as 
an  essential  feature.      Iiiterior  movements  with  pic- 
tures of  Indian  life  is  i)resented   in   Crcnionv's  Jj'fr 
AiiKirif/  the  Ajmeliea,  giving  the  experiences  of  an  active 
participant  in  frontier  wars,  who  comes   to  the  C(tn- 
<  lusion  that  in  the  extermijiation  of  red-skins  lies  the 
oiilv  safety  for  settlers.     The  book   is  unsvmmetrical 
and   the  diction  cai'i'less,    though  gra])hic.      Stephen 
]*owers  goes  overthe  same  grounil  in  his  Afoof,  but  he 
dwells  mainly  on   the   pastoral   phases  ;  de]»iets  the 
varied  scenery  in  word-painting  that  is  at  times  ex- 
([nisite  ;  gives  glowing  ])ictures()f  buddingsettlements, 
and  portrays  the  life  within  in   graphic  touches,   re- 
lieved by  veins  of  satire  antl  softened  by  a  veil  of  sub- 


I 


612 


EARLY  CALIFORNIA  LITERATURE. 


tie  humor,  rising  iu)w  and  then  into  happy  witticism. 
Nevertlielcss,  tho  narrative  drags  at  tinios,  and  only 
too  many  pages  have  been  filled  with  dull  anecdote's 
and  dialect  pieces.  His  MiUikiHgnni  IjCfjends,  partly 
reprinted  from  the  Overland,  are  a  series  of  sketches 
from  different  climes,  well  studied  and  finished ;  gems 
sparkling  with  all  the  beauties  of  the  i)receding,  and 
with  hardly  any  of  their  defects  ;  full  of  happy  obser- 
vations and  conveyed  in  i)ictures<(ue  language.  Both 
he  and  Cremony  have  left  some  useful  maimscripts  on 
Ii'dian  dialects. 

More  distant  scenes  are  presented  by  Swift  in 
Gohif/  to  .Icriclio,  by  way  of  the  land  of  the  Cid 
through  the  Halicarnassian  stamping-grounds.  His 
aim  is  to  be  entertaining  rather  than  correct,  and  ti 
this  end  he  strains  somewhat  the  Derbian  vein,  which 
he  has  evidently  cultivated  ;  nevertheless  there  is  a 
sufficient  How  of  natural  and  genial  humor  and  fn - 
quent  bursts  of  real  eloquence,  mingled  with  delicate 
sentiment,  to  sustain  the  intimations  made,  and  to 
atone  for  occasional  lapses  in  tast<;  and  effort.  ]l(  ad- 
ers  who  delight  in  liarrowing  and  pathetic  stories  may 
turn  to  McCrlashan's  ///Vory  of  the  Donner  Parfi/,  de- 
scribing its  terrible  sufferings  during  the  trip  to  (  ah 
ifornia. 


A  great  proportion  of  th(^  several  hundred  manu- 
script contributions  to  my  library  by  pioneers  hc- 
longs  to  the  class  of  historic  biography,  deahii'4 
more  with  tangible  facts  than  abstract  analysis  or 
moral  infiuence,  but  generally  relieved  by  quaiiit 
drollery  and  piquant  anecdotes.  Their  value  to  his- 
tory is  of  the  highest,  bearing  as  they  do  on  tlir  dif- 
ferent phases  of  California's  unfolding.  Few  of  tlusc 
men  have  even  attempted  to  give  their  memoiis  in 
print,  their  direct  or  indirect  articles  in  public  joui- 
nals  referring  chiefl)-  to  episodes.  I^erhaps  the  nmst 
in\portant  contribution  among  them  is  the  Ixmillc'- 
tions  and   Opinions  of  an  old  Piorwer,  by  Peter  H. 


HISTORIC   BIOCRArHY. 


013 


Burnett,  tlie  first  <.^ovcrn(ir  of  the  state.  Tlie  first 
lialf  describes  the  land  iournev  to  C)re<j:on,  and  his 
career  there  as  iu(l<j:e  till  the  uold  excitement  lured 
liini  to  California.  The  flush  times,  early  political 
atfairs,  and  industrial  develo[)incnt  from  a  banker's 
standpoint  are  successively  reviewed,  interspersed 
with  refleciions  and  [)ersonal  matter.  The  tone  is 
(■!^otistic,  and  the  phraseology  ungrannnatical.  The 
liiirr  of  tlie  Wed,  by  that  most  versatile  writer,  Mrs 
F.  F.  Victor,  belongs  pro[)erly  to  Oregon,  but  de- 
serves special  mention  here  for  its  attractive  weft  of 
mountain  and  tra[)per  incidents,  with  descriptive  and 
.'inecdotal  matter.  The  Pcrfioval  UeiDniixroiccx  nf  Jadf/c 
Fid'l,  printed  in  IHMO  only  for  private  distril)Ution,  re- 
late almost  exclusively  to  his  professional  expe'ri- 
( iices,  suj>plemented  by  Some  AccoiDif  of  ihr  W'urlr  of 
Slcjilioi  J.  Field,  1.S81,  filled  mainly  with  his  decisions. 
0 '^Eeara's  llroderiek  dud  (iin'ti  delineates  two  political 
leaders  with  the  subtlety  of  a  (alculating  partisan. 
Hiographic  anecdotes  of  early  men  find  s[)ecial  consid- 
eration in  T^arry  and  Patten's  Mev  and  Memoirs,  a  dis- 
(onnected  book,  full  of  trivialities  and  poor  anecdotes 
as  retailed  in  t!ie  wine-sho[). 

Nund)ers  of  clergymen  have  added  records  of 
their  efforts  in  furtherance  of  religious  and  educa- 
tional advano(unent,  notal)ly  the  ri'verends  Williams, 
Willey,  and  Wo«)ds.  in  .1  Fiotirer  Padarofe  and  Thiks, 
Tliirti/  Vearf^  ht  Calif  iruin,  nwd  Rreollerfiinis  of  Piomrr 
II  "/7.\  The  first  attained  a  second  e<lition  in  iss-j, 
nnd  dwells  on  the  history  of  th(!  presbyterian  chui'eh 
at  Sail  Fi-ancisco,  founded  by  him  ;  the  second  extends 
Ills  observations  to  eccK'siastlc  labors  generally;  and 
the  last  swcills  his  account  with  sketches  of  early 
times  and  characters,  in  a  chatty  style,  marked  b\ 
cniisiderable  naivete,  and  fre<|U(Mit  attemj>ts  at  t  lo- 
(jueiice.  The  CheeLrrrd  J/ife  of  \'^er  Mehr  concerns 
iihiive  all  himself  and  his  ol<l-world  career,  and  reveals 
II  weak  character  with  little  talent,  buffeted  by  a  hard, 
I'liicLical  world,  as  may  be  judged    from   the  puerile 


C14 


EARLY  CALTFOnXIA  LITERATURE. 


sentinioiits  and  trivialities  of  tho  story.  General 
biograjjliy  has  also  received  attention.  Oscar  Scliuck 
prepared  matter  which  grew  to  two  volumes,  but  his 
t'rt'ort  was  tar  surpassed  in  size,  trea|;nient,  and  appear- 
ance by  the  Coutcinporarj  Biofjraphij  of  Califnriii(i'.-< 
Iicpresciikitlrc  Mot,  edited  by  Professor  Pheli)s,  and  il- 
lustrated, forming  the  most  pretentious  specimen  vi 
book  manufacture  on  the  coast. 

Amid  this  flow  of  contributions  toward  history, 
Californians  did  not  lose  sight  of  the  main  object  fur 
utilizing  them.  Men  like  Ednmnd  Randolph,  Ahx- 
ander  Taylor,  Benjamin  Hayes,  and  others  energeti- 
cally advocated  the  need  for  a  formal  history  ot" 
the  state.  Some  became  so  interested  as  to  form 
in  1870  the  California  historical  S(jciety,  and  wciit 
so  far  as  to  issue  a  reprint  of  Palou's  Notido. 
Randolph  gave  an  earlier  example  in  1860  by  is- 
suing An  Odfluic  of  the  History  of  CaJlfoniia  till 
lH4i),  in  less  than  seventy  octavo  pages,  which, 
brief  as  it  is,  reveals  considerable  research  for  tlinr, 
time.  Like  them.  Tavlor  collected  material,  and 
gave  to  the  pulilie  a  portion  of  his  treasures  and 
studies  in  journalistic  articles  on  mission  reginic, 
biography,  and  other  topics,  confused  and  incoirect  in 
form,  and  pedantic  in  execution.  Hayes,  on  t!  i^ 
other  hand,  modestly  I'onfined  liimself  to  the  laborii'iH 
task  of  formitig  scrap-books  of  newspaper  ('li]>]Mn;^s 
and  nianuscri[)ts,  classified  by  locality  and  subjict,  and 
extending  to  scores  of  volumes — all  of  which  I  pnr- 
chased  as  one  colU'ction.  Others  contributed  to  tic 
press,  as  did  Taylor,  on  special  episodes  or  distrit  ts. 
and  R.  F.  Ryan  at  an  early  date  wrote  for  ilf 
GoUJcii  Era  a  series  of  chapters  under  a  sensation.d 
headiuii' on  the  history  of  the  state,  beoinning  mIHi 
the  expedition  of  Cortes,  but  even  less  satisfactdv 
than  Randolph's  sketch,  and  very  fragmentarv.  Out- 
lines more  or  less  comjilete  and  general  may  be  fonnd 
appended  or  embodied  in  descriptixe  and  statistical 
works  on  the  country. 


SOME  HISTORICAL  EFFORTS. 


G15 


In  1851  John  F.  Morso  hcgan  the  III nsfrated  IJisfor- 
ical  Sketches  of  Califonikty  with  special  attention  to  the 
history  of  Sacramento,  issued  in  cliea))  numbers,  and 
with  Uttle  evidence  of  research  or  elaboration,  defects 
which  no  doubt  assisted  to  render  the  attempt  a  fail- 
ure. In  the  following  year  appeared  The  Annals  of 
»S(i/A  Fraiiclsco,  with  a  historical  introduction,  a  de- 
scription of  society  and  institutions,  and  a  series 
of  biographies;  the  former  lacking  investigation  and 
care,  the  social  pictures  savoring  strongly  of  the  sen- 
sational, and  the  biography  of  fulsome  flatter}',  the 
historic  text  being  also  frequently  marred  with  ])er- 
s  )iial  notices.  It  may  be  classed  as  a  book  intended 
to  sell. 

It  was  not  till  eleven  years  later  tliat  Franklin 
Tutliill  issued  the  first  Ilisforj/  of  Cal if(>r)i  la  dnHcrving 
tlie  title.  He  was  fitted  for  his  task  by  varied  train- 
ing and  experiences  as  doctor.  Legislator,  and  journal- 
ist in  his  native  state  of  New  York.  In  185'J  he  came 
ti)  scLtle  hi  California  as  an  editor  of  the  Bulletin. 
Perceiving  in  him  a  natural  taste  for  historic  research, 
I  requested  him  to  undertake  the  work,  and  as  it  was 
in  a  measure  connected  with  his  duties,  he  readily  ac- 
({uiosced.  Unfortunately,  there  were  many  obstacles 
t  >  hamper  him.  He  had  neither  time  nor  opportunity 
for  investigation,  and  adopted,  often  with  insufficient 
sUidy,  the  accounts  of  tho  most  accessible  printed 
sourees.  For  later  times  the  news[)apers  enabled  him 
to  be  more  complete.  In  treatment  he  is  not  sym- 
inotrical,  and  skims  many  mon)entous  and  thrilling 
incidents,  while  according  to  others  an  undue  share  of 
attention.  Altliougli  revealing  a  coimnendable  grasp 
of  generalities  and  a  clear  judgment,  he  shows  a  simi- 
lar unevenness  in  often  failing  to  seize  essential  fea- 
tures. Tho  same  characteristics  a[>[)ly  to  style,  which 
is  essentially  cram[)i'd,  a  stiff  ailherence  to  Macaulay's 
l;u',onisms.  He  seinns  chary  of  words  as  well  as  space, 
and  wliile  the  acknowledged  })ossessor  of  a  flowing 
pen  lie  governs  it  too  rigidly  by  the  superior  claims 


616 


EARLY  CALIFORNIA  LITERATURE. 


of  fact  recital.  There  are  occasional  plays  of  wit  and 
fancy,  but  he  is  not  always  happy  in  similes,  dosi)ito 
his  range  of  diction  and  lore.  Altogether  the  work 
leaves  an  impression  not  wholly  satisfactory  to  either 
student  (^r  casual  reader. 

Excess  of  work  fostered  an  organic  disease  in  Tut- 
hill,  and  in  1864  he  undertook  a  European  tour  for 
his  health,  only  to  succumb  at  New  York  in  tlie  fil- 
lowinuf  year,  at  the  ago  of  fortv-three.  His  last  nio- 
ments  were  given  to  revising  the  proof-sheets  of  the 
history.  While  printed  at  New  York,  it  was  written 
and  published  in  California.  A  Yoidlcs  History  of 
California,  by  Lucia  Norman,  may  be  regarded  as  an 
abridgment  of  the  above.  Compact  form  and  cheap- 
ness were  the  chief  causes  for  its  success. 

Nearly  all  the  pre- American  history  of  California, 
extending  over  three  quarters  of  a  century,  turns  on 
the  missions;  yet  to  tliis  period  and  features  little  at- 
tention has  been  given  by  the  new  occupants  as  com- 
pared with  tlie  flood  of  information  on  the  decado 
beginning  witli  1X40.  This  is  pardonable  in  view  of 
the  stirring  incidents  herein  grouped ;  but  as  their 
splendor  passed,  and  observers  recovered  somewhat 
from  the  dazzling  eftcct,  they  reverted  to  the  quieter 
scenes  of  the  past,  round  the  cradle  of  their  state,  aiid 
saw  there  the  heroic  strug<jjlcs  of  self-sacrificinsx  friars, 
braving  danger  and  endurhig  hardship  for  the  saving 
of  souls  and  the  planting  of  civilizaticm.  Thousands 
of  rude  beings  were  undoubtedly  made  l)etter  and 
happier,  even  if  they  served  mainly  as  stepping-stones 
for  colonization;  and  thousands  of  somewhat  higher 
beings  were  lifted  to  comfort  and  enjoyment  in  tlie 
farms  and  towjis  that  sprang  up  along  the  ])atli  of  the 
cross.  Tliis  was  tlie  wand  that  transformed  a  wilder- 
ness into  a  ilourisliing  territory. 

It  is  but  natural  that  tlie  church  which  had  laid 
the  foundation  f  )r  an  empire  should  desire  t<i  record 
the  groat acliievement,  nenlected  as  it  was  bv  civilians, 
and  this  it  has  sought  to  do  in  ix  History  of  the  Catlidlio 


SOME  HISTORICAL  EFFORTS, 


617 


Church  in  California,  by  W.  Glceson,  professor  in  St 
]\Iary's  college.  The  work  was  printed  at  San  Fran- 
cisco in  1871-2  in  two  volumes,  with  illustrations. 

While  adhering  to  the  title,  the  text  treats  also  oi' 
secular  events  linked  with  the  mani  topic,  notably 
those  that  led  to  the  occupation  of  this  country. 
There  is  a  disproportion  between  the  topics,  however. 
The  missions  very  ])roperly  receive  the  greatest  space, 
but  those  of  Lower  California  embrace  nearly  one 
third  of  all  the  material,  and  evidently  be(  ause  their 
history  lay  ready  for  the  compiler  in  well-written  vol- 
umes. For  tlie  northern  establishm(!nts  he  lias,  nev- 
ertheless, gathered  some  excellent  facts.  After  IS.OO 
he  ignores  political  data,  and  swells  his  pages  with 
tales  of  wonderful  conversions.  He  is  not  alone 
strongly  partisan,  but  he  upholds  modern  miracles, 
and  gives  undue  importance  to  the  traditions  of  pre- 
Columbian  visits  bv  St  Thomas  and  the  Irish  fathers, 
whose  traces  he  fondly  unravels  in  North  American 
mounds.  These  peculiarities  are  not  balanced  by  any 
particular  excellence  of  treatment  or  stN'le.  Indeed, 
lio  lacks  Tutliill's  dignified  regard  for  historv,  and  dis- 
plays  less  abilitj^  and  care. 

The  centennial  celebration  of  the  United  States 
was,  by  sugufestion  from  congress,  widelv  coinmemo- 
rated  by  a  production  of  local  histories,  in  California 
i!o  less  than  elsewhere.  Among  them  was  one  of 
San  Francisco,  which  expanded  into  a  large  volume, 
i'nd.)racing  incidentally  an  outline  of  state  occurr(>nces. 
It  was  prepared  by  John  S.  Hittell,  the  leading  statisti- 
cal writer  on  the  coast,  and  marked  by  liis  characteristic 
formality  of  treatment  and  independent,  clear,  and 
comprehensive  styh'.  While  surpassing  in  complete- 
ness any  previous  elibrt,  it  is  to  be  regretted  that  a  still 
1  letter  use  was  not  made  of  his  opportunities  l)y  an 
author  with  suHi  wide  experience  and  versatility  of 
tliemes.  Connected  v/ith  the  press  f)f  this  city  almost 
since  its  b(>ginning,  he  has  exercised  a  marked  inHu- 
i  uceou  public  thought,  and  placed  himself  prominently 


1 


618 


EARLY  CALIFORNIA  LITERATURE. 


before  it  in  a  number  of  publications,  notably  the 
lic.soarccs  already  spoken  of,  and  A  Brief  History  of 
Culture,  written  with  special  attention  to  industrial 
develo[)inent,  and  in  a  measure  com[)lementary  to 
I)ra[)cr's  Intellediuil  Developiiunit.  It  does  not  attain 
the  same  lofty  range  as  this  famous  work,  and  is  de- 
ficient in  the  inductive  and  deductive  study  and  treat- 
ment to  bo  expected ;  nevertheless,  its  value  is 
uiuioubted,  forming  as  it  does  the  first  popular  book 
of  the  kind  in  English  wliich  combines  scope  and  con- 
ciseness. The  issue,  in  1857,  of  a  Plea  for  Pantlickm, 
indicates  liis  bent  of  thought.  He  wrote  on  phrenol- 
ogy, translated  several  German  scientific  treatises, 
dabbled  in  drama,  and  touched  a  variety  of  other  sul)- 
jects.  One  of  his  latest  tasks  was  to  edit  the  i'out- 
merce  and  Indastries  <f  tJie  Pacific  States,  at  my  request. 
Among  other  local  histories  of  California  nmst  be 
mentioned  Dwinelle's  Colonial  Jfistorij  of  San  Francisco, 
which  passed  through  several  editions,  and  which 
presents  an  exhaustive  argument  before  the  court, 
with  a  series  of  documents  establishing  the  early 
existence  of  this  city  as  a  pueblo,  and  tracing  tlio 
colonial  policy  of  Spain  and  Mexico  toward  such  stt- 
tlonients.  The  History  of  San  Jose — by  F.  Hall. 
author  of  the  Life  of  }[axiinilian,  and  legal  adviser  to 
this  ruler — is  a  very  fullami  ratherambitious  work, con- 
sidering the  subject.  Tinkham  wrote  a  nmcli  infeiior 
account  of  Stockton.  Hugo  Reid  and  others  earlr 
contributed  articles  to  the  press  on  county  historv. 
wherein  Isaac  Ci>x  takes  the  lead  with  his  Annals  i:J 
Tri)iity  County.  This  is  a  class  of  books  which  of  lato 
years  has  been  issued  in  groat  [)rofusion  by  s|)eculative 
firms,  based  on  the  vanity  of  pushing  settlers,  wlmso 
biogra[)hies  and  estates  form  the  main  topics.  With 
all  tlieir  undigested  and  fulsome  details,  oftni 
embodied  in  florid  verbiage,  they  contain  many  val- 
uable facts  Little  superior  to  these  is  the  pretentious 
RrpiLhlicanisDi  in  America  by  R.  Guy  M'Clellaii, 
which  may  be  called  an  apology  for  the  republuaii 


SCIENCE. 


cia 


party,  to  wlioso  prejudices  it  a})peals.  It  is  uneven 
in  treatment,  hastily  thrown  together,  and  not  very 
dignified  m  style  or  logical  in  spirit. 

That  Californians  arc  interested  in  scientific  subjects 
is  demonstrated  by  tlie  foundation,  in  18j3,  of  the 
Academy  of  Natural  Sciences,  which  has  grown  in 
importance  ever  since,  and  contributed  much  to  tlie 
enlightenment  of  the  j)et)ple  in  its  s[)ceial  de- 
partment. The  source  for  admiration  herein  lies 
not  so  much  in  the  early  date  of  its  establisli- 
nient,  for  the  heavy  inwnigration  to  California 
brought  a  large  proportion  of  educated  men  with  a 
taste  in  this  direction;  it  is  its  steady  growth,  amid  ex- 
citing incidents  and  absorbiing  pursuits,  which  attracts 
our  attention.  Mining  was  naturally  the  main  in- 
centive for  investigation,  and  called  for  a  vast  number 
of  more  or  less  elaborate  and  learned  treatises,  eitlier 
in  the  several  journals  devoted  to  this  branch,  or  in 
s])ecial  form.  Among  the  latter  must  be  mentiojied 
the  reports  and  hand-book.^  of  William  Blake,  Kustel, 
IMiillips,  J.  J.  Powell ;  and  above  all  J.  Iloss  Browne 
and  Clarence  King,  the  former  reporting  to  the  f(  d- 
eral  government.  The  latter  was  coimected  with  the 
Ideological  survey  of  California,  begun  in  1.8G0,  and 
from  which  resulted  several  bulky  volumes  on  the 
diH'erent  subjects  falling  within  its  province,  William 
P.  Blake,  later  connected  in  this  state  with  the 
university,  had  in  1853  made  a  geologic  survey 
f.»r  the  federal  authorities,  and  thereu[)on  a  special 
examination.  An  amateur  investigator  in  this  field 
is  John  Muir,  whose  enthusiastic  i'esearches,  embrac- 
iii^-several  important  discoveries  and  theories,  he  re- 
vealed in  articles  to  periodicals.  Professor  Jose|>h 
]je  Conte's  studies  on  this  and  other  subjects  have 
appeared  also  in  book  form;  those  of  his  brother, 
.lulin,  likewise  professor  at  the  university  of  California, 
relate  mainly  to  physics,  astronomy,  and  medicine. 
Both  have  an  attractive  style.     Medical  and  agricul- 


620 


EARLY  CALIFORNIA  LITERATURE, 


tural  journals  arc  licre  in  rcspoctable  nuuibor,  witli 
articles  of  as  high  an  ordor  as  elsewhere,  and  several 
doctors  have,  like  Toland,  jmblished  lectures  and  dis- 
sertations. Members  of  this  [»rofession  have  also 
been  foremost  in  botanic  resear<*h,  Kello}>Lj  settini:  a 
good  example  more  than  twenty  years  ago  with  his 
illustrated  articles  for  the  periodicals.  K.  H.  Stretch 
and  W.  H.  Edwards,  the  former  mineralogist  of  Ne- 
vada, the  latter  an  actor,  wrote  extensively  on  lepi- 
doptera ;  Grayson  contributed  to  the  knowledge  of 
California  birds,  and  left  much  material  on  Mexican 
ornithology,  and  Scammon  pre[)ared  interesting  arti- 
cle's for  the  OrrrlamI,  which  were  afterward  incorix)- 
rated  in  his  elaborate  work  on  Mamie  Mainmah. 
Davidson  of  the  coast  survey  has  made  important 
additions  to  the  knowledge  of  geography,  meteorology, 
and  astronom3^ 

Comparative  philology  has  engaged  the  attention 
of  Adlcy  Hook  Cummins,  whose  contributions  to  tin- 
study  of  old  Germanic  languages  have  procured  him 
an  enviable  record.  George  Gibbs  has  ac(|uired  prom- 
inence as  a  writer  on  aboriginal  languages,  and  on  the 
ethnology  of  this  coast.  I  have  already  spoken  <it' 
the  vocabulai'ies  and  grammars  prepared  b}'  the  friars, 
and  by  later  writers  like  l\)W(>rs  and  Cremony.  There 
is  room  for  nmch  similar  work,  with  an  ample  field 
among  the  numerous  trihes  of  the  country  now  rapidly 
fading  away.  John  Swett  stands  prominent  as  ;i 
writer  on  education.  E.  S.  Carr,  sometime  professor 
at  the  university  of  California,  has  given  the  annals 
of  the  farmers'  movement  in  his  Patrons  of  Ilnaba'udrii. 
Hilgard,  Hyatt,  and  Perkins  have  supplemented  his 
treatises  by  valuable  researches  on  agriculture. 

Political  science  shows  such  writers  as  C.  T.  Hop- 
kins and  Henry  George.  The  latter,  an  able  editor, 
achieved  celebrity  with  his  Progress  and  Povcrtu,  a 
work  that  revives  in  an  effective  manner  doctrims 
enunciated  by  Quesnay  and  De  Gournay  for  placin^^ 
taxation  mainly  on  land.     George  urges  that  land  he. 


JUUlSrUUDEXCE. 


C'Jl 


vestotl  wliolly  in  the  jroverinnont,  and  propounds  sev- 
eral otlior  theories  stamped  hy  certain  originality  as 
well  as  by  stron*^  imagination  and  vigorous  stylo. 
The  success  of  the  book  was  greatly  due  to  the  social- 
istic excitement  prevalent  at  the  time  of  issue,  savor- 
ing as  it  docs  of  connnunism,  and  revelling  in  uto[)ian 
fancies.  The  introductory  review  of  economic  prin- 
ciples and  writers  is  not  treated  with  sufficient  con- 
sideration. 

The  peculiar  conditions  attending  the  occupation  of 
land  and  mines  in  this  country  has  led  to  an  amount 
of  litigation  unparalleled  for  extent  and  importance, 
and  con3e<iuently  to  vast  additions  in  forensic  litera- 
ture, remarkable  not  alone  for  research  but  for  elo- 
quence and  depth  of  thought.  Of  the  former  class 
may  be  mentioned  the  compilations  of  M.  ]\r.  Estte, 
J.  N.  Pomeroy,  and  those  begun  by  Proft'utt,  now 
grown  to  one  of  the  most  voluminous  issues  of  de- 
cisions ever  made.  The  eft'orts  of  legal  lights,  i)ar- 
tiiking  of  Dwinelle's  argument  on  pueblo  lands,  or 
(Tregory  Yale's  11  Vi/rr  liiglifs,  will  be  found  noticed 
elsewhere.  Suffice  it  here  to  allude  to  those  of  II.  W. 
Halleck,  whose  justly  esteemed  Iiiternuthmul  Law 
found  its  beginning  in  questions  decided  by  him  as 
early  as  1840,  during  the  conquest  of  the  country. 
Halleck  had  before  this  issued  Kkntods  of  Military 
Art,  which  obtained  a  second  edition  in  1861,  and  A 
Collection  of  MiniiKj  Lairs  of  ISjHiin  a)i<l  Mexico.  This 
and  the  first-named  work  were  published  in  San 
Francisco. 

The  devotion  to  scientific  and  practical  studies  is 
marked  in  California  aujong  the  men,  and  in  accord 
with  the  general  activity  in  developing  the  cumulat- 
ing resources.  This  observation  is  su|)ported  not  nn 
nmch  by  the  number  and  labors  of  societies,  which  are 
chiefly  of  the  literary  and  debating  classes,  as  by  the 
records  of  libraries.  These  have  been  rapidly  nmlti- 
olying  and  enlarging  since  the  momentous  year  of 
1849,  with  a  commendable  predilection  for  useful  and 


irn 


KAIILY  CALIFORNIA  LITKllATUUR 


standard  works,  notwitlistandin**  tlio  stronjjf  doiiuuid 
for  si'iitiuK'ntal  novels  l)y  a  nms.s  ot'  luisurL'-riddeu 
women." 


Ilcligious  feeling  on  tliis  coast  is  far  less  widc-s|)read 
or  intense  than  in  the  countries  from  which  its  i)o[)u- 
lation  is  drawn,  as  can  be  readilv  judged  from  tlie  ol)- 
servance  of  the  Sahhath,  with  its  excursions  and  loc.il 
entertainments,  and  from  the  want  of  fervor  among 
those  who  attend  church.  The  adventurous  spirit 
that  prompt(  d  most  of  the  comers  to  this  far  off  sliore  ; 
the  very  object  that  allured  them,  and  wliic'i  has  con- 
tinucnl  to  be  so  all-absorbing;  the  roaming  life  of 
many,  and  the  unsettled  position  of  others — all  this 
has  contributed  to  the  prevalent  indifference  for  de- 
votion, fostered  also  by  the  tone  of  nn  influential 
press.  Materialistic  tendencies  are  common  among 
its  writers,  a  few  with  German  sympathies  inclining 
to  such  teachings  as  arc  given  in  John  S.  Hittell's 
]*lca  for  J\mthc(sii),  San  Francisco,  1S57.  Itmnstnot 
be  forgotten,  however,  that  since  Californiii  h..  s  been 
made  a  state,  the  people  of  New  England  have  castolF 
much  of  their  supi'rstition ;  so  that  after  all  our  const 
cannot  be  considered  freer  from  fanaticism  to-day  than 
the  intt^llectual  and  cultured  circles  of  the  east.  The 
most  fervent  believers  in  old-time  doctrines  and  ti;i- 
ditions  are  no  doubt  those  of  the  Koman  catholic 
church,  which  appeals  greatly  to  the  senses  and  emo- 
tions, and  relics  chieHy  on  certain  classes.  Hare,  in- 
deed arc  conversions  like  that  recorded  by  Governor 
Burnett  in  The  Path  irJiich  Led  a  Protcsfmit  Lavyrr  to 
the  Cofliollc  Clinrcli,  New  York,  1859.  It  bears  traces 
of  priostly  pens.  The  conversion  took  place  while  he 
resided  in  Oregon,  and  was  attributed  by  opponents  to 
ambitious  motives.  This  tlie  book  seeks  to  disprove. 
Teachhup  of  the  Arjesi  is  a  book,  issued  in  1874  by  A. 
C.  Traveler,  advocating  a  universal  church,  having 
for  its  creed  the  general  principles  underlying  Chris- 
tianity.    It  is  stamped  by  Swedenborgian  views,  how- 


RELIGION. 


over,  and  full  of  foniinliio  rlmpsodios  and  diU'iiscin  ss. 
Judijjo  Wid.iey,  of  Los  Angeles,  wrote  a  very  ublcund 
ortli(Kl()X  \V(.rk  ontltlod  TJic  Planof  Cnnfion. 

With  this  iniiii^ling  of  indifferonco  for  the  judpit 
and  Jittontion  to  estrangini;  thouj^ht,  ministers  have 
strug'^lod  hard  to  maintain  their  influoncu,  and  have 
only  too  fre(iiiuntly  rc^sortod  to  more  or  loss  sensa- 
tional adjuncts,  iu  theme  of  sermon,  in  nnisie,  and 
ether  contrivances  to  attract  the  wayward  Hock. 
Theirs  has  in  a  groat  measure  continued  to  he  a  niis- 
sionary  field,  with  demand  for  teachers  aiid  guides 
rather  than  theologians  and  thinkers.  Thus,  wiiih!  our 
{trotostant  clergy  include  in  their  ranks  men  of  the  lat- 
ter stamp,  they  have  both  in  their  pri'aching  and  writ- 
Hig  souglit  to  conform  to  the  claims  of  their  })r(»fession. 

l^ishop  Kip,  so  long  connected  with  California,  is 
the  author  of  a  number  of  books  bearing  on  his  field, 
l)ut  they  are  all  of  what  njay  be  termed  po])ular 
treatises  both  in  size  and  treatment.  His  series  on  the 
Jesuit  missions  are  extracts  from  the  old  and  curious 
//7/rrs  Edifiantes,  Tlie  Early  Conflicts  of  Clirisfldiilfij, 
The  Church  of  the  Apostles,  and  the  better  kiwtwn  ('(if<i- 
romhsof  Rome,  illustrating  the  earliest  unfolding  of  the 
faitii,  and  impress  lessons  which  are  happily  brought 
liomo  in  Unnotircl  Tli'nHfii  of  Scripture.  Sevei'al  of 
these  volumes  reached  a  number  of  editions,  particu- 
larly the  Double  Witnexfi  of  fite  Church,  which  is  a  tie- 
fence  of  episcopal  principles,  a  cause  also  espoused 
by  F.  C  Ewer,  rector  of  Christ  church,  for  protest- 
antism generally  in  his  ^V■^//o/^s•,  New  York,  ISGl). 
This  talented  man  w^as  in  early  days  connected  with 
California,  notably  as  editor  of  the  riouccr  magazine 
of  1854  6. 

Another  prolific  church  writer  was  W.  A.  Scott, 
an  able  thouijh  somewliat  egotistical  and  dogmatical 
presbyterian,  whose  oi)|)osition  to  the  vigilance  com- 
mittee of  1856,  and  to  the  war  for  the  unicm  in  1800-1, 
created  some  excitement  at  the  respective  dates.  His 
subjects  were  maiidy  the  portraj-al  of  bible  charactei"3 


624 


EARLY  CALIFORNIA  LITERATURE. 


wlioso  example  lie  seeks  to  upliokl,  wliilo  investing; 
the  storv  with  iiuinv  ot'  the  alluiiiiu;  features  of  tlic 
histoiie  novel,  includniL!;  pictuns  of  Oriental  society. 
This  is  especially  tlie  case  with  Kstlar,  the  Jlcbn ir- 
l\'rmin  (^nrcn,  inteiuled  for  female  readers.  l\iJhuii<l 
ho  addresses  youiiL?  men,  and  The  (limit  Judijc,  a  study 
of  Samson,  is  intended  to  ])romote  the  ]>urity  of  niar- 
ria'i;e  and  domestic  life,  while  The  Church  in  the  Armij 
points  to  early  centurions  as  <;uides  for  soldiers. 
Their  puhlication  was  due  to  the  success,  es[)e(ially 
in  the  eastern  states,  of  his  Wrdf/c  of  G'oA/,  iHof). 
with  its  lessons  fnnn  the  life  of  Achan  ai^ainst  e\- 
trava<j;ance  and  love  of  money.  The  chction  and 
[diraseology  are  frecjueutly  hiblical,  and  the  religious 
strain  is  perhaps  too  intense,  in  its  continuance  at 
least.  Trddc  (Did  IjcUrrs,  on  their  relationship  and 
moral  tendency,  is  more  profane  in  tone.  Musc.^  <ni'l 
the  I*(  iihifcnrh  forms  a  reply  to  Colenso,  and  in  Tin 
Christ  of  the  Apostles  Crcnl  he  arrays  himself  aij^aiiist 
Arianism  and  kiiidred  doi>;nias.  This  is  the  most  pie- 
tenti«>us  of  his  works,  and  reveals  indeed  research  of 
no  mean  extent,  in  addition  to  the  study  im|)re.ssed  mi 
all  his  pa;4'es,  with  its  a(hnirable  display  of  analysis 
and  deduction,  and  further,  a  liberality  of  opinion 
which  is  demonstrated  in  his  ar*j;ument  ai;ainst  se(  t;i- 
rianism  in  schools.  In  this  he  was  opposeil  hy  lii^ 
confrere,  W.  C.  Anderson,  who  eloquently  upheld  tin 
use  of  the  bible  for  schools.  It  is  to  be  i-e^^retted  tli;it 
such  pronounced  abilities  and  severe  stutlv  should  he 
m  the  iuain  wastetl  on  puerile  subjects. 

In  the  sermons  and  addresses  of  the  unitarian  niin 
inter,  Thomas  Starr  Kinjjf,  Christimiitif  and  IIiiiii(iii/'l;i, 
J\itriotism  and  other  hipers,  we  find  thouj^ht  clothed 
in  picturesque  word-[>aintini»',  and  in  the  author  ;i 
mat^netism  that  drew  crowtis  of  admirers.  His  stir- 
rinjj^  eloquence  found  a  tittinuf  theme  durin<jj  the  union 
war,  in  the  midst  of  which  he  died,  rej^retted  by  peo- 
ple of  every  religion  and  of  no  religion. 


ORATORY. 


C25 


To  tho  abovo  may  he  acMod  the  discoursos  of  the 
lioveroiid  Wadsworth,  and  the  rarer  Hermons  of  a  few 
others,  besides  momoirs  elsewhere  noticed.  jMoro 
|»ublieations  coul<l  not  reasonably  be  cxpectetl,  for  the 
eleri^y  (►f  California  lived  in  an  a-j^e  of  action  rather 
than  of  thoui^ht.  The  scenes  depicted  in  Taylor's  Sfrni 
IWdcliiiif/  stamp  to  a  ^I'eat  extent  the  early  stniijfoles, 
with  which  only  too  many  are  still  occui)ie(l,altlioU!j;h 
others  jiave  passed  throiijjjh  different  stages  to  a  mon; 
settK'd  condition,  here  or  elsewhere.  Their  most 
ertectivc  appeals  were  ])robably  those;  in  which  they 
roused  attention  by  interweaving  illustrations  from 
profissional  pursuits  and  home  life,  and  drawing  les- 
.sons  in  prudi-nce,  integrity,  manliness,  and  kindness. 
Among  these  practical  preachers  were  tiie  ( ongrega- 
tionalist  A.  \j.  Stone — see  his  Mcniorial  Discniirscs, 
ii(»ston,  1S(U> — and  J.  B.  Thomas,  a  ba|>tist,  with  sci- 
entific tastes;  also  Kincard  and  ]^riggs.  Otlu'rs 
rik(>  Jewell,  the  methodist,  aroused  interest  by  anec- 
dotes from  common  life,  inclining  somewhat  to  tho 
si'nsational.  Cox  and  Pierpont  approached  the  re- 
vivalist method,  with  its  ]>lay  upon  the  em(»tions.  the 
loftier  and  purer  phases  of  which  were  admiral>ly 
t' inched  by  Wadsworth.  Scenes  and  characters  from 
the  bible  were  treated  with  comprehensive  th(»rough- 
iiess,  not  alone  by  Scott,  but  by  tho  cojigregationalist 
XoMe.  Kij»  inclined  to  historic  subjects,  and  the  «'on- 
gi'egationalist,  Burrows,  was  .strong  in  the  classical  and 
ill  .s(»(ial  analysis.  In  IMatt  of  the  episcopal  church 
we  meet  the  philosoj»her ;  tin*  unitarian.  Stebbins,  is 
more,  metaphysical,  and  also  the  methodist,  Stratton. 
The  term  ethical  apj)Iies  best  to  l^eckwith  and  Ijams, 
(•oiigregationalists.  (Jray,  ba|>tist,  and  thi;  preshyte- 
riiins,  Kels  and  Williams-  the  latter  brought  before 
the  public  also  as  editor  of  ('<>)tfnciHs  ami  flir  Clii- 
vc.^r  (^hissicn,  San  Franci.sco,  18(57 —also  Clibson  and 
liuoniis.  and  such  eloquent  preachers  of  the  lioman 
church  a.s  (Tibney,  (xrey,  an<l  IVendergast.  The  .spir- 
ited Buchard  may  be  classed  as  a  polemic,   like  hid 

KS8AY«   ASI>    MiMKLLANV 


40 


lil 


626 


EARLY  CALIFORNIA  LITERATURE. 


opponent,  prcmpliill,  asoniowliat  bigoted  prcshyterian, 
dis[)osed  towanl  tlie  sensational,  yet  eiRlovved  witli  ji, 
natural  form  of  eloquence.  Sensationalism  has  lured 
many  from  tlie  dignified  attitude  associated  with  tlic 
pulpit,  partly  from  the  ])ressure  of  circumstances,  hut 
also  from  innate  dis[)osition,  and  political  questions 
have  frequently  been  discussed  with  indecorous  lient, 
notahh'  by  the  baptist,  Kalloch.  Another  desecratnr 
of  the  cloth,  Van  do  Mark,  the  universalist,  excelled 
in  elocution.  For  pictures(jue  eloquence  (iuard,  metli- 
odist,  stands  unsurpassed  ;  jMactlonald,  episco])aliaii, 
liad  a  studied  brilliancy,  and  Starr  King  shone  in  his 
strength  and  magnetism. 

In  the  oratory  of  the  bar  and  assembly  are  equallv 
bright  names,  and  amon<j;  them  California  claims  also 
a  share  in  E.  J).  Baker,  a  prominent  debater  of  his 
day  in  the  United  States  senate,  who,  during  the 
opening  decade  of  the  state's  develo[)ment,  exettfd 
his  magic  elocpienco  in  behalf  of  patriotism,  mo\i d 
the  heart  with  his  lofty  tenderness,  and  dazzled  with 
his  siq)erb  woi'd-painting.  Colonel  Kewen  possessed 
the  latter  quality  in  a  high  degree,  but  with  too 
marked  floriditv.  Thomas  Fitch  excelled  in  imantiv, 
and  (Jeorge  (Jrordon  is  conspicuous  for  poetic  strains. 
John  }i.  Felton,  with  his  love  for  the  heroic  and  gn  at 
in  human  nature,  revealed  a  strong  emotional  viiii. 
Then  there  were  Edmund  Randolph,  deep  with  his- 
toric lore,  tlie  epigrammatic  W.  S.  Ferguson,  Til- 
ford,  J.  A.  Collins,  Geoi-ge  Barstow,  Charles  A. 
Sunnier,  James  A.  jMcDougall,  Volnc}^  Howard,  and 
lEenrv  Ed'j^erton  ;  while  native  Californiaris  find  up- 
resentatives  in  men  like  Sepiilveda  and  Del  A'alle. 

Their  efforts  are  naturally  more  or  less  colored  ly 
the  <jreater  excitabilitv  of  tem[)eratnent  around  them. 
<lrawn  from  tlu?  very  air  and  soil,  and  manitesled 
partly  in  enterprise,  partly  in  a  taste  for  the  sensa- 
tional rather  than  for  the  reflective.  The  audi- 
ence is  accordingly  less  cold  and  critical,  and  lasily 
swayed    by    humorous    fancies    or    sarcastic    sallies, 


PKCULIARITIES  AND  COXDTTIOXS!. 


637 


stirring  Impulses  or  lofty  emotions,  the  sentimental 


holii'jf     rather     exolusivelv    left    t 


()    women. 


Vol 


u- 


l)ilitv  iui<\  self-contidenee  cannot  be  called  lackiii'j: 
amoii;^  the  orators,  and  thus  fortified,  they  are  ahle 
to  ex(!i't  tJKMr  power  with  eonsiderahio  freedom.  Suh- 
jtrcts  arc  not  wanting,  sharing  as  wo  do  in  all  the 
gr-t'at  and  glorious  incidents  in  Am(>rican  nati(nial  life 


and  in  its  constant  and  varying  political  struggles, 
and  p;)ss  \ssing  hesid(\s  a  history  of  our  own,  une<juaiied 
for  vivid  [)ictures,  with  a  triph;  array  of  pilgrim  fatht-rs 
from  somide'endarv  times  throu'jh  vistas  of  fierce 
frontier  wars,  thrilling  hunting  adventures,  and  (\dm 
pasti>ral  pursuits,  all  merging  in  hrilliant  transforma- 
tion sfienos.  The  foremost  ot  these,  tht;  gold  discdv- 
erv,  is  a  never  ending  source;  for  apju'al  and  flattery, 
as  progress  and  lii)i'rty  are  for  inciwitive  and  exhorta- 
ti  )ii.  !*]  pitlly  charaetcn'istic  are  the  onih(  Ilishnients, 
clii  'Hy  s'it'nie  imig'My  fi-om  a  truly  hcautiful  and 
varied  Ian  Is-api^  and  a)  Italiaii  sky.  If  the  ohjectivo 
thenitj  I);  ofr.eii  vapid  and  mt-aningless.  its  haekgi'nnnd 
is  at  least  grand,  and  the  coloring  warm  and  aniinat- 
iiig.  Frun  oik!  must  spiing  taste,  from  hoth  li»fty 
aspirations,    and  with    them   a  strain    of    originality 


(I  raw  1 1   n 


)t   al 


one 


fr( 


om  our  novel  social  phases,  an( 


I   nil 


.1 


iiiriifest.!  I  in  human  dialeets,  a»id  other  classical  ah- 
iMr  nities ;  ami  not  al  mio  from  inspiring  scenery  :  hut 
fiMin  a  comliination  of  ethical  and  physi<'al  circuni- 
stmc'ei  which  holds  forth  the  brightest  [)r()misc. 

California  lias  a  certain  literature  of  her  own  re- 
volving round  tin!  incidents  and  characters  of  mining 
(•  I'll  »■»,  tho  noveltv  and  peculiaritv  of  which  sniliced 
t^>  impart  a  sp(H'ia!  stamp  to  tin;  narration.  It  depicts 
tVoutior  life  in  the  diggings,  in  the  towns  of  sheds  and 
tt'iits  sprung  uj>  within  a  day,  and  oft  as  speedily 
.'i'»  i!ido:ied  to  solitude  and  decay.  Weather-beaten, 
1' u!iy  biiarded  ni'ii  fornu^d  the  bulk  of  the  commu- 
nity, with  a  sprinkling  (►f  efteminacy  and  wr'ick  in 
broken-down  topers  ami   empty  headed    tyros,    wiih 


i 


628 


EARLY  CALIFORNIA  LITERATURE. 


^^ainl)lers  and  dupes,  villains  and  bullies.  Catastroplios, 
wild  orgies  and  rash  deeds,  streaks  of  fortune  and 
niislia[)s,  alternate  in  ra[)id  sequence,  narrated  largely 
ill  the  raoy  frontier  vernacular,  with  varied  admixture 
of  brogue. 

Life  was  a  gamble,  centring  as  it  did  on  ever- 
expected  yet  rare  realizations  of  riches,  which  were 
usually  dissipated  with  the  reckless  disregard  accom- 
panying easy  acquisition.  It  took  a  mazy  turn  and 
motley  coloring,  and  the  predominance  vt'  males  im- 
parted a  rough  masculine  stamp.  There  is  a  markrd 
apiu^al  to  sentiment,  particularly  in  allusions  to  a  dis- 
tant home,  to  exile  longings,  and  to  death-bed  scenes; 
yet  love  episodes  are  wrought  in  a  spirit  of  droll 
bluntness.  The  spectacle  is  too  (extravagant  in  its 
pictures! jucness  and  incongruities  to  be  described  in 
ordinary  language.  It  moulds  diction  as  well  as 
fancv.  Writers  fall  irrt^sistiblv  hito  a  fictitious  stvlf, 
and  swell  the  improbable  with  exaggeration  and 
anomaly. 

Thus  grew  a  class  of  tales  an<l  novels,  known  in 
some  directions  as  Cnlifornian,  wliieh  achii^ved  wide 
popularity,  from  their  novelty  of  form  and  subjoct, 
from  the  broad  interest  taken  in  the  country,  and 
from  the  excuse  they  afforded  to  C(>rtain  classes  to  in- 
dulge their  s<vret  penchant  for  a  tabooed  bhuxl-and- 
thuiuler  and  flashy  literature. 

The  leading  figure  is  the  honest  miner,  in  woollen 
shirt  find  high  boots,  with  pistol  and  bag  of  gold-dust 
at  the  belt.  The  piquant  soubriiiuet  un<hT  whicli  In' 
is  introduced,  like  those  of  liis  camp  and  gulch,  \n-r- 
sents  the  individual  peculiarity  which  marks  him 
tiiroughout  the  progress  of  his  career,  in  perse- 
vering effort  or  reckless  abandon,  in  rolliekin-^ 
indulixcnce  or  sage  discussion;  vet  underlaid  I'V  a 
tender-hearted  dis[)osition  which  peers  through  tlie 
oath-laden  vigor  of  his  talk.  A  swarthy  Mexi- 
can or  South  American  is  introduced  to  bear  the  oh- 
loquy  of  certain  crimes,  a  love  tragedy  or  vend<  ita, 


INFLUENCE  OF  WOMAN. 


.-;'^'- 


born  of  a  jealous  disposition  or  a  sliglitcd  and  rcvono 
ful  soul.  Around  the  outskirts  liovtrs  tlie  last  survi- 
vor of  some  Indian  triou,  to  i»oint  out  the  dejiiadatien 
lurking  in  rum,  to  illustrate  in  his  devotion  the  mag- 
netism and  su[»eriority  of  white  men,  or  to  personate 
the  devilish  instincts  of  scalp-huntinij  savages.  The 
role  of  gentleman,  in  white  shirt  and  semi-Mexican 
picturesqueness  of  covering,  is  usually  assigned  to  the 
gambler,  but  its  inferiority  to  that  of  the  horny-handed 
digger  is  indicated  by  pronounced  black-leg  i>roclivities. 
The  ever-welcome  doctor  is  accordingly  invested  with 
the  garb  of  honored  toiler,  relieved  alone  by  more 
studied  speech.  In  truth,  the  dandy  is  either  hviio- 
crite,  maudlin  nund>skull,  or  rascal,  while  fiankmss, 
generosity,  and  bravery  lie  in  the  rough  diamond, 
who  discovers  the  slumberin<2;  treasure,  or  achieves 
the  cuhninatmg  success. 

Woman  usually  dawns  like  a  heavenly  vision  upon 
the  cam)),  where  her  sex  has  not  been  seen  Ijcfore 
She  is  ensiirhied  the  guardian  s[)irit,  the  (jueen,  or 
sprightly  elf  of  the  place.  Or  she  may  be  a  romjting 
wikl  flower,  self-reliant  and  k(>en,  abounding  in  slang, 
and  in  familiar  comradeship  with  admiring  courtiers,  to 
a  certain  limit.  Bevond  the  ma^ic  circle  flits  tlu'  strav 
waif,  in  a  glamor  of  comjjassionate  regard,  which  sur- 
sounds  evi'U  the  beldame.  Some  noble  sacrifice  or 
gt'nerous  trait  adds  its  redeeming  halo. 

WiMuan  is  the  sole  aristocracy.  The  rest  minijrle 
in  the  deniocratit-  equality  which  here  assumed  a  level 
never  bi-fore  attained.  But  it  is  a  reckless  conmmnil  v, 
fi\'(|Uentlv  bordiM'in'j;  on  lawlessness,  althou'-h  re- 
strained  in  the  nick  of  time  by  the  valiant  hero; 
lirawls  and  nmrders  do  alternatr,  likewise  plots  and 
vigilance  connnittees,  all  in  (piiik  changes,  with  strik- 
ing tableaux,  full  of  improbability  and  [>aia(lox,  of 
humor,  pathos,  and  above  all,  eccentricity.  In  Indian 
and  Spanish  coninmnities  an;  also  many  striking  and 
attractive  features,  which  have  found  p(i[tular  a[»[)roval 
in    novels   of  the  llanwna   type.     The    new    social 


680 


EARLY  I'ALIFOIINIA  LITERATURE. 


rirolos  arisino-  in  connection  with  southern  Californi.i 
hf.iltii  and  pl'/asuri'  rusorts  and  colony  tracts  otlcr 
additional  topics  for  the  many  writers  joining  in  the 


Calif 


ornia  pilj^rnnage 


»n, 


S[)iHMniens  of  the  border  or  ''tale"  class  of  fictic 
founded  on  experience  or  unvarnished  recollections  l'\ 
|>ioneers,  are  conunon  enough  since  all-inspiring  '41', 
t!S|H!ei;dly  in  periodicals,  but  it  was  given  to  Francis 
liret  Harte  to  invi\st  it  with  niarkcil  excellijnce,  ami 
to  attract  woi'ld-wide  attention,  thus  gaining  for  hiiii- 
self  the  crt'i^lit  of  having  foun<led  a  new  school.  Tin' 
grounds  for  this  claim  a|)|K'ar  less  substantial  wh<  ;i 
we  considi>r  the  evolution  of  tlio  tales  in  question,  and 
till"  siinilai'ity  of  his  methods  of  writing  to  tiiose,  sav.ef 


J) 


icKeiis  and  Jjowi 


I  J 


'11,  with   traces,  also,  o(  Thackerav 


and  Irving.  Nevertheless,  h(!  exhibits  acond)inatii'ii 
of  traits  so  admirable  as  to  entitle  him  to  the  credit  if 
positive  genius,  ami  to  explain  why  he  lias  been 
widelv  imitated.      1  [is  striMiixth  lies,  above  all  in  i 


m  ai»- 


pfeeiation  of  the  grotes((ue,  which  crops  out  ever\  - 
where,  now  in  broad  veins,  now  in  subtile  tracerv, 
investing  even  solenni  and  tragic  incidents  with  a  bur- 
der  of  humor  that  turns  the  most  serious  affairs  in  life 
into  burles(|ue.  With  this  is  mhigled  an  under- 
curri'ut  of  satire,  tlu'  niori^  pleasing  because  unobtiu- 
sive,although  itoften  burstsupou  the  reader  in  swelling 
volume  and  forct> ;  and  then  a  pathos  so  tendi'r,  yet 
so  penetrating,  as  to  change  the  smile  into  a  ivM\ 
He  is  full  of  quaint  ideas  and  eccentricity,  but  he 
sul)dues  the  oU'ensive,  intimating  rather  than  uttering', 
and  seeking  t.-ver  to  cast  a  veil  of  mercy  or  doubt  ovt  r 
even  the  worst  character.-',  whoso  traits  he  has  otlh  r- 
wisc  so  graphically  delin(>ated  in  colors  true  t(»  their 
strange  environment.  The  analytic  power  underlyiiii;' 
his  creations  is  ri'vealed  esj»ecial]y  in  the  Cinxli  iif^id 
Ndi'ch,  parodies  wherein  lie  exposes  the  mannerism, 
and    other    defects    or    peculiarities   (if 


shallowness. 


au 


thors.     Ho  is  also  skilhnl  in  the  use  of 


may  bo  seen  also  in  his  neat  sketches  of 


woi 
SL'cnci 


(Is,  as 


■y 


d- 


FICTION. 


681 


though  this  frequently  tk'gcncratcs  uito  a  striving  for 


viYvA't 


Such  are  iiulisjmtahly  the  merits  of  Ilartc  as  ilis- 
])liiy«'<l  ill  his  btst  etlorts,  ii(>tably  those  eonneeted 
with  T/ic  Lnrk  of  lioarimj  (\tiiii>,  liowever  iiiueli  iiuiy 
\)v  tlue  to  tlie  inspiration  born  of  en\  uoiunent  and  as- 
sociation sinee  bo\  liood,  with  tlieir  strikin<j[  reaiitirs. 
Hut  lie  lias  also  liis  deficiencies.  He  sought  for 
years  before  lu;  struck  the  happy  vein  which  horo 
Jiini  on  to  success,  and  upon  this  he  worked  till  signs 
of  monotony  and  weakness  indicated  that  it  had  l»»'eu 
well  nigh  exiiausted.  Then  he  tried  the  novel  and 
the  drama,  otily  to  fail  and  to  tlisclose  the  narrow 
limits  of  his  range.  Even  in  his  best  sketches  there 
is  an  ominous  sameness  of  fi-atures  an«l  of  ])hrases. 
The  sentiment  degeni'rates  to  tl:e  conuiionphu'i',  and 
tJie  melotlramatie  exaggt'ration  assumes  a  glaring 
]>romin«nice  in  the  inferioi-  ])ieces.  We  must  not  ex- 
|iect  from  him  sustained  ell'orts  inv;*lving  ])lot,  sym- 
metr\',  consistency  ;  but  be  content  with  tin;  surpass- 
ing excellence  of  his  short  C^difornia  [)ieces,  which  are 
not  likely,  liowever,  to  bring  him  enduring  fame. 
His  ti'aining,  no  less  than  his  greatest  successes,  were 
as  intimati'lv  connected  with  California  as  his  career 
was  a  hap[ty  illustration  of  its  bohemian  vicissitudes. 
He  canu!  of  mixed  English,  (xerman,  and  Hebrew 
blood,  and  was  i)orn  in  IS;}()  at  Albany,  New  York, 
where  his  father  held  the  pt)sition  of  teacher  at  a 
female  colU'ge.  In  isr)4  the  family  came  to  this 
(•(•untry  and  l^ret — originally  Ih-ett-  for  three  years 
pass(Hl  through  the  experiences  of  miner,  expressman, 
teacher,  and  the  like,  mingling  with  tlu'  strange;  char- 
I'.cters  of  the  mining  region,  and  observing  tlu'ir  pecu- 
liaritit'S  with  an  acuteuoss  sliari)ened  by  novelty  and 
by  developing  faculties.  After  this  he  went  to  San 
Francisco  as  compositor  on  the  (ioldoi  Krtt,  and  be- 
gan to  contribute  sketches  which  attracted  fritiidly 
notice  from  men  like  Starr  King,  who  procured  him  a 
hinecure  clerk&ihip  in  the  miut.     Hurte  made  good  use 


632 


EARLY  CAUFORNIA  LITERATURE. 


of  his  leisure  by  devotin*;  himself  to  studies  and  writ^ 
ing,  and  to  editing  the  L'aUfornkut,  where  appeared  the 
Vondemed  Novels,  the  first  production  to  attract  for 
him  trans-continental  notice.  In  18G8  he  was  entrusted 
with  the  editorship  of  the  Overland  Monthly ;  and  in 
making  it  a  literary  success,  mainly  with  liisCalifuniiii 
sketches  in  prose  and  verse,  he  also  achieved  for  himst  It 
that  recognition  on  which  his  fame  rests.  California 
readers  were  backward  in  according  their  approval  to 
the  credit  given  him  on  the  Atlantic  slopes.  In  1871 
we  find  him  in  the  eastern  states  reai)ing  the  reward  to 
which  the  Heathen  Cliihee  gave  the  decisive  impulse, 
and  later  consular  appointments  in  Germany  and  Scot- 
land afforded  a  change  of  .scene  both  for  studies  and 
honors.  His  contributions  to  newsj^apers  and  maga- 
zines have  all  been  ct)llL'cted  since  his  first  decided  suc- 
cess, and  issued  in  book  form  under  such  leading  titles 
as  (^'oiidem^ed  Novels,  The  Lnek  of  Roaring  Cuiiqt,  Mth 
l^haijifs  Ifushamls,  Flip,  and  Talcs  of  the  yln/ovavls. 
(kthricl  'jmroify  an  8vo  of  4G6  pages,  is  the  largest  and 
worst  story,  and  next  to  it  is  The  Story  of  a  Mine, 
a  12moof  172  pages.  None  of  the  collection  e<iuul  in 
the  aggregate  that  of  TIic  Luck  of  Roar  in  f/  Catiiji, 
with  its  admirable  Outcasts  of  Poker  Flat,  Taincssas 
Partner,  MiiJi/lcs,  and  the  title  ])iece. 

Harte's  theme  had  been  cultivated  in  different  veins 
since  the  year  of  the  gold  fever,  as  may  have  bei  n 
seen  in  stray  sections  of  early  books  on  California  and 
in  periodicals.  For  Ralph  Keeler  may  however  be 
reserved  the  claim  of  having  written  the  first  novel  of 
any  merit  on  California  life.  It  was  published  jit 
Boston,  but  failed  to  attract  attention.  Keeler  fig- 
ured later  in  eastern  magazines  and  as  a  foreign  cot- 
respomh^nt.  Josephine  Clifford  has  been  among  tlie 
happiest  contributors  of  short  tales,  based  on  i>ei- 
sonal  observations  in  Arizona  and  California.  Tlie 
Mexican  population  takes  l  prominent  place  in  tlio 
strong  incidents  depicted,  and  share  in  the  neat 
bits  of  character  portrayal,  which  together  with  the 


FICTIOX. 


688 


spirit  of  narration  and  snjootlinoss  of  diction  impart 
an  unflat'«'inix  interest.  Hvr  (hrrUnul  T<tJc^,  imblished 
in  1877,  take  their  name  from  tlieniaj^azine  from  which 
tlicy  ^vero  reprinted.  B.  C  Truman  issued  in  1881  a 
simiUir  collection,  the  (hcidniUil  Slirfrhcs,  which  art; 
vij^orously  traced,  and  eidivened  by  frequent  streaks  of 
humor.  Cremony's  contril)utions  to  the  <hrrl(ni<l 
possess  similar  attractive  qualities.  Noah  l^rooks  is 
a  prolific  writer  for  the  same  magazine,  as  well  as 
S.  Powers  an<l  P.  Mulford.  Gally's  Sojid,  and 
Jiitj  Jack  StiiaU  attract«ul  much  attention  in  1881. 
(jrrey's  P'nwrcr  Times  contain  three  stories  on  early 
Cahfornia  experiences  which  do  not  lack  interest,  hut 
whicli  reveal  in  their  many  naiv(^  and  crude  passaL^es 
aii  untrained  pen.  T)a;4L!;ett's  llmj'i<ni  llur  is  ahler, 
and  dis])lay8  some  of  Harte'^  consj)icuous  featun'S. 
H.  Busch  attempts,  in  tlie  German  JIarri/  Plmrcr- 
ficUl,  to  follow  the  ste[)s  of  an  early  «j^old-seeker, 
l)ut  his  style  is  too  stitl' to  suit  tlie  subject.  Joaquin 
^Miller's  tales  arc  uneven,  like  his  poetry,  wliile  full 
of  the  dramatic  incidents  that  have  led  to  adaptations 
on  the  stage  of  the  Mn//7r.s-and  other  pieces. 

One  of  the  most  meritorious  of  elaborations  on 
Pacific  coast  life  is  J.  F.  Swift's  American  novel,  as 
he  stvles  it,  Uohcri  firratlioitsr.  It  deals  with  the 
career  of  a  dare-devil  gambler  of  the  Nevada  mining 
region,  of  good  descent,  whose  manv  graceless  scliemes 
iiiul  escapades  stand  redeemed  by  certain  strict  id(>as 
of  honor  inculcate<l  by  family  jtride,  and  by  a  patii- 
otic  devotion  wliieh  finally,  during  the  union  war, 
consigns  him  to  the  grave  of  a  soldier,  '^i'he  vein 
of  humor  noticed  in  connection  with  his  doiufi  fn 
Jrrh'lio,  assists  U)  brighten  the  well-sustained  inci- 
dents and  characters. 

Phases  of  the  unfolding  of  fashionable  and  artistic 
life  at  the  western  metropolis  are  touched  uj>on  in 
]\[ary  W,  Glascock's  Dare,  while  its  temi>tatioiis  find 
ail  ex[)onent  in  Aimie  Lake,  who  delights  in  exti-ava- 
gant  ideas  no  less  fanciful  than  her  word  [>ainting. 


634 


EAULV  CALIFORNIA  LITERATUKK. 


Trivial  dialoj^uos  add  to  tlic  defects  of  lior  On  the 
Verge.  Tlio  struggles  of  hiinibler  classes  in  England 
and  America  are  revealed  in  Madame  Jane  Jnrk  and 
Joe,  in  imitation  of  Dickens,  by  Mary  liorneman,  J. 
F.  (JIark  strives  in  The  ^<<>i'}ety  In  Search  of  Truth  to 
exjiose  tlu!  evils  of  stock-gandjling,  in  which  he  as  bro- 
ker had  i.iken  an  unfortunate  part.  But  the  manij)U- 
lation  of  bonds  has  evidently  not  tended  to  improve 
that  of  the  i)en.  Another  moralist  is  Andre,  who  in 
Orcrcoiiie  advocates  the  vii'tues  of  teini)erance,  but 
with  a  feminine  effort  at  delicacy  that  here  uufDi- 
tunately  transcends  into  insii)idity.  Even  anti-Chi- 
nese declaimers  have  sought  fiction  as  a  medium  for 
impressing  their  arguments,  as  instanced  by  A.  Whit- 
ney's Almond  J'Ji/cd,  of  somewhat  coarse  grain.  A 
more  imaginative  production  is  the  Last  Daijx  of  the 
Republic,  by  P.  W.  Dooner,  although  marred  l>y  a 
socialistic  tone  and  stiff'  ))retentious  diction.  It  as- 
sumes a  swelling  unmigration  of  Mongols  until  the 
entire  United  States  is  overrun  and  surrendered  to 
the  control  of  the  new  masters,  who  thereupon  re- 
model all  institutions  to  suit  their  ideas.  The  o[»er;i- 
tions  of  the  celestial  system,  a  century  hence,  are 
minutely  outlined. 

The  taste  for  sensational  stories  among  the  early 
miners,  in  harmony  with  their  own  feverish  life,  is  in- 
dicated by  the  favor  accorded  to  the  contributi(^ns  of 
Rowena  Granice  (Steele)  to  the  Golden  Era,  so  much 
so  as  to  prompt  the  reissue  of  several.  Of  a  similar 
though  higher  grade  are  the  weird  tales  of  W,  II. 
Rhodes,  partly  collected  in  Caxtons  Book,  whose  inLicn- 
ious  and  scientific  weft,  with  many  a  humorous  thread, 
partake  both  of  Poc  and  Verne,  and  have  like  theia 
found  imitators  in  different  directions. 

The  affectation  for  English  customs  is  upheld  in 
Behind  the  Arras  by  Constance  Maude  Neville,  whoso 
name  harmonizes  with  the  somewhat  pompous  and 
stereotyped  style  and  character  of  the  book,  laden  al>o 
with  feminine  intensity  and  adjectives  and  borderii).; 


FICTION. 


or. 


on  the  romantic,  as  truly  sot  fortli  by  the  titlo.  TIio 
tlit-'ino  coiK'unis  a  strayed  brood  of  fliildrcu  of  arislo- 
cratie  bii(ja«^»;.  Hrlij^ion  and  lovo  an-  judiciously 
iiiini;le<l  in  Laura  Preston's  ///  Hoiid.s,  aiul  in  IjhIi\ 
(inifcHHiottii,  ^oY  tli(j  oditication  of  sci'upulous  Sunday 
roadors.  The  fornior  relates  to  two  women,  one  of 
clouded  descent,  the  other  tainted  with  ncLifro  bl(»od. 
whoso  suflerin;4s  seek  ex|»ressi(»n  in  unjjjranunatical 
form,  and  in  frecjuent  forced  ,  napsodiesof  the  revival- 
ist typo.  /,w//  assumes  the  plaintive  strain  in  confess- 
iu!^'  her  unhappy  love,  but  offsets  the  weakness  with  a 
.series  of  stronn'-minded  o|)inions.  Arlllr  llronii,  bv 
T.  Dettcr,  is  remarkable  only  in  Ix-inn"  written  by  a 
(  olorod  man.  T/ic  drak  <S'/(nY',  tlescribin;^  the  devo- 
tion of  a  n'lrl  of  the  classic  peninsula  who  married  a 
detested  man  to  save  her  father,  indicates  in  its  oush- 
iii'jj  effusiveness  the  recently  escaped  school-^irl. 
Superior  to  most  of  these  rises  Edna  N'erne  in 
Fidel Itc,  in  describnig  how  two  lovers,  separated  by  a 
jealous  intrii^uer,  reunited  in  r'alifornia  after  many 
struijjgles,  and  on  the  eve  of  the  briile's  pro])osed  sac- 
rifice of  her  hand  in  behalf  of  her  father's  totterintr 
fortunes. 

With  still  more  pleasure  can  wo  turn  to  the  shorter 
stories  of  Frances  Fuller  A'^ictor.  IJisini;"  above  allec- 
tation  and  tritlin;^  sentiment,  she  invests  lun"  char- 
acters and  incidents  with  a  vividness  of  tone  that 
;ij)peals  to  the  roadi'r,  while  the  ])oetie  instinct  wliich 
first  jjjained  her  poj)ular  ap[)roval  weaves  an  appro- 
priate tracery.  Jiei"  ap])arent  [trcference  for  ( )re<»on 
topics  has  arisen  fi-om  the  discovei'v  of  a  fresh  field, 
in  oppositi«ni  to  California,  which  has  been  so  often 
depictured. 

The    references    already    made    to     this     writer 
LMve    evidence    of    a    rare    versatility    in    heavv    as 

'  t.'  V 

We'll  as  light  branches  of  literature,  and  in  this 
.'Hid  other  respects  she  stands  unapproached  amonj^ 
the  female  authors  of  the  Pacific  coast.  In  the  east- 
ein  states  her  sketches,  novelettes,  and  poems   had 


630 


EAULY  CALIFORNIA  TJTKRATURE. 


BHicc  tlie  forties  ju'ocurod  for  lior  wide  roronrnitioii, 
and  aftor  lior  arrival  huri)  in  ISG.'J  slic  at  oiifi;  tooli  a 
proiniiioiit  [>laco  iit  tlu;  literary  circle  for  varied  con- 
tributions, enibracinLj  also  historic  articles  and  essays, 
and  humorous-satiric  pieces,  the  latter  chietly  con- 
nected with  the  nom  de  pluniu  of  Florence  Fane, 
which  so  loni^  assisted  to  maintain  the  popularity  iA' 
the  (fithirn  Kra.  Only  a  few  of  her  writin,L!,s  huvc! 
been  collected  for  the  AV//'  Piiiclnjx;,  and  this  toj^ethcr 
with  tlie  Rhrr  of  flic  U'rsf,  a  historic  bio<jjra|thy  relat- 
in;^  to  the  fur-huntinj^ei'aof  the  slo[)C,  and  tiui  fascinat- 
ing descriptive  work,  All  over  Orc'ijon,  and  M'asliiiif/foii, 
constitute  tlie  sole  s])ecimens  in  book  form  bearin;^ 
her  widely  appreciated  name. 

In  juvenile  books,  Laura  Preston  reveals  a  graphic 
simi)licity  and  strength  not  found  in  her  novel;  yet 
slic  stands  surpassed  l>y  Carrie  Carlton  (W.  Wright), 
whose  vivacity  drifts  at  times  into  delightful  abandon, 
and  again  rising  to  enthusiasm.  Fanciful  legends  and 
bits  of  poetry  add  to  the  fascination  of  her  biglcmxiL. 
K.  D.  Smith  combines  hajipily  the  sym[)athetic. 
sprightly,  and  pictures(|ue  in  tlie  Tlic  Story  of  ralsii. 
Th(!  collection  in  Xo  JUibi/  in  flie  House  is  spirited  \vi 
tender,  and  that  in  The  Candy  Elephant  has  a  redeem- 
ing vein  of  fun. 

It  will  be  noticed  that  love  stories  and  society 
novels  have  fiillen  almost  exclusively  into  the  ham  Is 
of  women;  the  men,  seizing  upon  the  more  pertinent 
realities  before  them,  found  therein  sufficient  of  tin- 
picturiisque  and  extravagant  to  exclude  the  desire  tnr 
conjuring  up  sontim«'ntal  fancies.  The  large  propoi- 
tion  of  women  contributing  here  toall  light  branches  of 
literature  is  due  to  conditions  which  will  be  consideinl 
elsewhere.  Their  superior  fitness  in  many  directions 
is  conceded,  if  only  from  the  intuitive  penetration  and 
the  keenness  of  observation  in  social  matters  lackin^^ 
in  men.  Society  is  still  in  course  of  formation,  hut 
this  by  no  means  detracts  from  the  scope  of  subjt  ( t. 
for  already  there  is  found  a  most  cosmopolitan  admix- 


THE  DRAMA. 


6n7 


turo  and  tlio  froqnont  oIiuiiujch  (»f  fortune,  wliicli  \n''\n<jf 
forward  a  <jivat  vaiit'tv  of  tiiiurcH  in  lapid  rotation, 
to-rrtlier  with  ati  almiulanco  of  sin<;ular  cliaraitcr.s, 
and  food  for  caricaturo  and  humor,  notal)lv  ainon";  the 
shoddy  and  aini)itiou.s  class.  The  fact  that  there  is 
httlo  cnooui'a<^cnicnt  for  hterary  productions  anionuf 
this  population,  which  harely  supports  even  a  few 
niauazines,  has  encoura<jted  tin;  writiii'j:  of  short  tales 
in  j»relerence  to  elahorate  novels,  which  seldom  ii[»ay 
ev(.'n  the  cost  of  printing. 

The  strikinjLij  incidents  which  form  so  ahundant  a 
source  for  the  short  tale  could  not  fail  to  sui^'^'est 
themselves  as  admirahlo  for  the  stage.  lCa>itein 
diamatists  early  nuule  use  of  them,  and  seveial  local 
oJKservers  hastened  forward  with  ])roductions  foun<led 
in  their  t'litirety  on  this  highly-colored  niateii.d,  as 
Di'lano  in  .1  Lire,  Woman  in  the  Mlin.^,  llarte  in  Tii'o 
Mm  of  SdiHh/  liar,  Miller  in  the  Danitfx,  Mi/  I'artiicr, 
and  similar  pieces.  Their  strong  seasoning  soon  rele- 
gated them,  however,  together  with  other  frontier 
dramas,  to  inferior  theatres.  Only  a  few  have  man- 
aged to  sustain  themselves  midst  the  predilection  ex- 
hibited for  foreign  productions,  especially  of  the  soci- 
I'ty  class.  Even  loud  nu^lodramas  from  such  a  source 
were  deemed  acceptable,  if  presented  as  successes  from 
some  (U^cent  theatre  of  London  or  Paris.  In  Califor- 
nia the  desire  to  behold  reputed  pieces  from  the  east 
and  Eui'ope  proved  still  stronger,  bound  as  the  publico 
was  by  so  matiy  ties  to  those  regions,  in  addition  to 
curiosity.  With  a  paucity  of  theatres  and  competi- 
ti(m,  managers  felt  little  inclined  to  ri.sk  their  efforts 
on  doubtful  local  compositions,  when  so  rich  an  array 
of  assured  merit  lay  ready  for  plucking  beyond  the 
mountains  and  the  <icean. 

The  spirit,  nevertheless,  moved  many  a  local  aspi- 
rant to  reduce  his  ideas  to  pa]>er,  among  them  C.  E. 
11  Howe,  who  i.ssued,  in  1S5H,  a  five-act  play  on 
Joaquin  Murkta,  the  noted  bandit.     He  paints  him  as 


638 


EARLY  CALIFORNIA  LITERATURE. 


a  luro,  wlio  |)assc8  unstained  tlir<>uii;li  the  butcheries 
that  surrouiul  liini,  and  spouts  nol)le  tlioujjjli  uii^iinii- 
matical  sentences,  scintillatini4- witli  n)any  a  "'tis  end 
"vondcr."  Similar  eoast  cliaraetcrs  ai'c  Uiuelnd  in  ^Ic- 
Kiidey's  J>ri';/litiiii  Yi)iiii(j,  and  \Vel)l)'s  Oitr  Frioul  fn.m 
\'ici<ir/(i.  M I's  l^urton  reveals  her  innate  Sjiani.-<h 
taste  in  the  Hve-aet  eoniedv  <>f  J)(ni  iinixafc.  JaXv. 
exposes  th'j  Dark  Saiirc  ])e  Chado,  l^ansniaii. 
l-}arnes  tlu;  lawyer,  and  J.  S.  Hitti'll  ixUo  figure 
auioiej"  i)lav \vri''hts.  The  hist  strives  for  a  h  Itv 
topic  in  dramatizing  CJoethe's  luinsf  under  (\ii\- 
day  conditions,  f'ro,n  winch  tlic scenic  and  supernatniiil 
ai'e  omitted.  The  tlieni(>  lias  l)een  too  (  h  sely  Wechud 
to  music,  however,  with  other  striking-  adjuncts,  to  j,c 
aj»|>i'eciated  in  harer  form,  chspite  its  many  e\(eihn- 
cies,  as  many  other  writers  have  learned  to  tin  ii'  (  est. 
Of  late  a  few  ti'iumphs  have  Keen  achieved,  hut  (hiitly 
with  adapt.itions,  as  the  safi^st  middle  uiound  •  ii 
which  to  encourage  managers,  anil  totiainand  insjiiic 
conruleiice  among  writers. 

In  the  production  of  such  pieces  another  ohstacle 
is  a  lack  of  stock  <-ompani(  s  with  which  to  l)iine  i hi  m 
forward.  They  have  heeii  tried  at  (hfl'erent  tiim  s. 
with  only  jnrtial  success,  and  th(  aires  are  for  the  um  st 
part  suri'endered  to  tiavelling  hands  or  to  actois  ot  re- 
n»»wn.orwith  special  ]>ieces.  for  whom  stipport  isl.asi  ily 
eolle<ted  nom  ainongtlu'  numeious  di-xote  r.s  to  the  his- 
trionic art  abiding  at  San  Francisco,  and  there  <h  \  (  hp- 
ing  under  several  teachei's  of  I'eputation.    Studi  ntsarc 


)V  no  means  few 


The  cit  V  t>f  the  (loldell  (  iate  is  onenf 


the;  most  anuisementdoving   places   m   the   woild.  al 
though  wiihahent  for  the  Teutoidr  rather  than  J.atiii 
form  of  ga\('tv 


Tl 


le  cause  lies  m 


th 


cNcital'h^  t<  ,11 


peranient  develojuil  during  the  gold  fever,  fostered 
by  climate  and  s|>(  culative  opeiation.s.  and  displayetl  in 
drinking,  miniicj;  gandiK's,  and  <»ther  excesses.  The 
})re|)onderanre  of  men  on  the  coast,  for  whom  the  (ity 
ia  the  gn'at  centre  of  plensm-t"  .is  well  as  l)usiness. 
directs    entertainments    chieily    tu    theatres,    Lilliaid 


nUMOROUiS  WR1TIN(;S 


ono 


lialls,  and  tlio  like,  with  a  [)i-irfr('ii('e  on  tlio  sta^c  for 
hilarious  rather  than  |i;rave  pieces.  Xuinhcrs  of 
associations  have  ftiriii;(l  for  jauposes  of  aniuscnient, 
and  anionic;  them  a  lai'!j;e  i>ro|)(»rtioii  of  (h'ainatic  <  luhs, 
whose  reunions,  thou;4h  emhiijj,'  usually  with  a  dance, 
are  marked  l)y  the  picsentation  of  amateur  as  well  as 
standard  [)lays.  Kven  here  local  writers  rar«  ly  find 
an  oi)enin;^,  while  in  AEexico  such  talent  is  specially 
favored  l»v  associations.  Their  intluenc*!  nmst  he  felt 
iu  time,  however,  \-h'm  the  e.\paiisi(<n  of  other 
hran<'hcs  shall  oiler  greater  o})})ortunities  also  f»r 
dramatists. 


A  marked  feature  of  the  California  tales  is  the  hu- 
morous Vein  pervading  a  lai'ge  proportion  of  them;  a 
Vein  which  rapidly  culminated  in  jMoductions  of 


-O  (   \- 


C( 


■ptional 


a  charactt'r  as  to  attam  a  laie  p(»jtularity  m 


that  particular  tii-ld.  It  is  a  humor  in  most  re'S[)ects 
as  cosmopolitan  as  tlni  region  wl;;  nv\:  it  sprang.  It 
p;irtd<cs  l>y  inheritance  of  the  English  pr-'dijectioii 
toi-  individual  and  class  ti'aits,  though  with  little  of 
its  chiii'actii'istic  sneering  conceit  and  irony  It.  tends 
in  fact  toward  the  hroadei",  though  more  gent  rous 
mood  of  the  (jlerman,  yet  does  not  descend  to  the 
urossn  'ss  of  the  Mi'ditei-raiiean  nation,  nor  to  the; 
\eiled  sug'^estiveiiess  of  the  l''ri  iicli.      It  sympathizes 


Il'Sd 


ith  the  droll  )'o''uishn 


ess  o 


f  the  f herian.  without 


.'inproaching   the    [uienle  admixtuic   of  the  Spanish 
.Vmericans,  and  i-eveals  a  tinirc  of  the  Irish  infriiiLre- 


men 


tof  1 


OiJIC 


It  f  )und  a  prolitic  sources  in  the  misc<'llan(>ous  gath- 
criti'j-s  at  the  ''old  fields,  hoisterouslv  acti\e  foi'  woi-k 
or  "play,  and  wilh  striking  characters  and  occurrences 
"M  which  to  dirt'ct  a  kei'U  oloervation.  The  re'^qi-n 
was  replete  with  tlios(!  odd  contrasts  wherein  lie-;  the; 
Ljeiin  foi  wit;  with  ahnoi'mities  of  a  ;;;iotes(|Ue  ordc  r  ; 
With  peculiar  tigur  s  and  lial»its;  visionai'v  expecta- 
tions and  con.seipient  disappointments;  amhitious 
stiifo  and  race  feeling;  rand  a  variety  of  dialects  and 


tt 


•V    1 


f      I 


040 


EAULV  CALIFOIINIA  LITKUATURK. 


hrofiuos.     The  pauritv  of  women,  and  tlic  dcijracKd 
natui'c;  of  so  many  of  tliein,  did  not  produce  the  cor- 


respondin;;;  levity  of  speech  that  nii«^ht  luive  been  ex- 
pected, owiui^  to  the  lart>e  admixture  of  superior  men, 
and  to  tiie  iingerinjj;  eH'ect  of  early  training  among 
the  numerous  descendants  of  the  puritans. 

Tiie  humor  here  originating  partook  largely  of  that 
andiicious  western  vein,  of  which  Lincoln's  stoi-ics 
jtresent  a  moderated  form,  and  of  the  dialect-twisting 
associated  with  American  horder  scenes,  wliih;  yield- 
ing less  to  the  charactt>ristic  [ilay  of  easteiii  writers 
on  the  ahsurdities  of  English  orthography,  thus  sep- 
arating alike  from  Breitmaim  and  Xashy,  with  their 
(Hiaint  learnin'j[  and  hlunderin<^  wis<loni.  It  ^ivts 
preference  to  facts  and  form  ratlun*  than  to  words, 
the  pun  cominix  less  naturallv  to  the  Califoridan  than 
to  the  l']n'>Tish,  to  iudiJte  partlv  from  the  slow  responsi; 
of  galleries  to  l)urles(|Ui^  c(»ntortions  of  that  cliis>,  :'nd 
to  tli(!  lal>ore(l  demonstration  attached  to  jour;;  iM  tic 
specimens.  It  doliglits  in  the  characteristic  Ameri- 
can exaggeration,  extravagant,  distorted,  and  incon- 
gruous, and  in  the  alfectntion  of  sini[»!iclty  and 
surprise,  with  a  mock  self-ahasement  or  underrating, 
in  contrast  with  the  British  sujx'rcilious  sarcasm. 

The  forem(»st  place  among  writers  of  California 
training  in  this  field  is  Sanmel  L.   Clemens,  (Mark 


wan  I 


).     Th 


.f  tl 


le  experience  or  the  young  iMissouriau  iii 
printing-offices  and  on  tlu;  deck  of  Mississippi  steam- 
boats servi>d  to  develop  the  iimate  appreciation  of  the 
grot<\s«|ue,  which  presi-nted  itself  in  so  conci'ntratc*!  a 
form  before  his  eves  durint;  a  journalistic  career  eu 
the  Pacific  coast  extending  from  IHfJlto  IS(if).  His 
Jnmp'nif]  Fro;/,  and  other  tales,  as  collected  and 
issued  at  London  in  1807,  first  brought  him  to 
notice,  and  ins[)ir(!d  tlu^  confidence  which  enaliled 
him  to   (rive  to  the  world  the  njore  elaboratt;   /// 


II"- 


crnfs  yihroad.  This  established  his  rei)utation  ."iihI 
brought  him  pecuniary  reward.  He  now  revivxl 
his  Pacific  experiences  in  Roufjfiinr/  It,  infusing   Ins 


HUMOROUS  WRITIX(i.S. 


Ml 


peculiar  facetiousnoss  into  the  class  of  incidents 
and  characters  displayed  in  California  stories, 
and  in  Nesting  this  west  ct)ast  product  with  fresh 
interest.  In  like  manner  he  turned  back  to  his  Alis- 
sissip|»i  steamboat  experiences,  without  striking  iiere 
or  in  subsequent  writings  the  same  attractive  chonl. 
While  JkOiif/liinii  It  pouis  forth  tlie  most  natural  and 
copious  stream  of  whimsicalities,  and  reveals  their 
California  source  in  form  as  well  as  substance,  the 
Life  oil  thr  Missifisippl  applies  a  more  serious  under- 
current, with  a  suiface  flow  of  farcical  anec<lotes,  ab- 


surd burlescjue,  and  hoax  sketches  often  of  a  ghastly 
t\pe,  yet  so  clothed  with  details  t"s  to  leave  a  strong 
impression  of  truth.  The  Jiiiioccnffi  is  marked  chieHy 
liy  flippant  caricature  and  an  exaggerat<<l  criticism 
which  respects  neither  tlu'  sacred  nor  solemn,  ni'ither 


the  classic  nor  the  crude.       Jlis    fancies   ai 


seldom 


>tnunt!d,  and  one  reas«»n  for  their  sustaine<l  interest 
lies  in  the  i-onneeted  story  forming  their  frami'-work. 
Mark  Twain  had  a  host  of  iinitators  on  this  coast, 
;is  elsewhere,  fllling  the  jjress  and  a  number  of  vol- 
umes with  every  degrt'c;  of  scintillation,  but  oidy  a 
t"i\v  have  succeeded  in  lending  therebv  additional  in- 
tercst  to  their  production.  Several  writers  <tn  min- 
ing e[)is()des,  as  J)an  ]^e  Quille,  (Wright),  seek  t<»  cast 
ili'ir  narrative  in  facetious  and  satiric  mould,  and 
M'ry  acceptably.  Old  Hlock.  (A.  iJelano),  did  so  in 
a  dry  suggestive  tone,  bi'eaking  out  in  occasional  word 
play.  Swift  has  a  natural  fund  of  hum(»r,  which  m 
Holxrt  Grt'dtliniific  takes  the  form  of  Rttiuiliiiuj  If,  wlr'e 
Ills  doiiifj  id  Jirichd,  corresponds  greatly  to  tin-  fund- 
CI  Ills  Ahi'ddd.  Koss  Browne  i-xhibits  a:  similar  jocun- 
dity when  treating  of  miners  and  Indians.  I*r(>ntiee 
Mulford   j)ossesses  a  genuine  vein  of  criticism  which 


ill 


unimes    nc 


arly   e^ 


vervthin*r   he  writ(  s.   and    is    fn 


'lU'iitly  marked  by  epigramnatic  flashes.    All  of  these, 
cvt  II  (^lcm<!ns,  have  studied  to  some  t'xtetit  the   pro- 
ductions of  (ieorge  H.  Derby,  the  t>arlir'st  (;f  Califor 
uiu  humorists, better  known  as  ''John  Phtenix."     llis 


m 


KkHAYH  ANU  .Ml.tCKI.l.ANV        U 


I{ 


Mi  EARLY  PALIFORMA  LITERATURE. 

oxuberaiic'o  found  vent  diiriiin^  a  six  years'  military 
service  on  the  Pacific  coast,  and  a  wann  welcome  was 
subsequently  accorded  to  liini  and  his  books  in  the 
eastern  states.  Ho  was  a  spontaneous  joker,  ever  ready 
witli  an  anecdote  or  burlescjue,  and  fond  of  banteriiiLj 
in  the  abstruse  to[)ics  harmonizing  with  his  sujH-riui' 
education  and  taste.  Hartc  approached  liim  in  lint  - 
ncs.s  of  ijjrain.  as  a  satiri.st.  Carrie  Carlton,  (Mrs  W. 
VVri<4lit),  the  best  known  feniah;  humorist,  under  thf 
name  of  Topscy  Turvey,  partakes  of  Delano's  style. 
Liiilit-luarted  as  ever,  and  with  a  })reponderanc(' 
of  i'ollickint2[,  baclielor  Californians  cultivate  the 
comic  asj>oct  of  lift;  with  promisin*^  assiduity,  and  .sev- 
eral jr<unials  liave  devoted  thetnseves  es[)ecially  Id 
their  (MJifieation.  The  competition  of  eastern  period- 
icals, with  their  striking  advantages,  ti-nds  to  over- 
shadow them,  liowever,  and  devt'lopijig  lights  seek 
n'ltui'ally  the  broader  fields  of  the  Atlantic  slope 

Atusic  and  poetry  are  M'idely  associated  with  s< mi- 
tropic  liinds  like  tlie  Iherian  and  Apennine  })eninsul;is. 
although  England  K'ads  in  tin;  pi't)fusenessan<l  luauty 
of  metri«'  effusions,  and  (iernumy  and  Swedeji  ii\  <  al 
in  the  mnnber  of  concei't  gardens  and  glee  clubs  tin  ir 
devotion  to  the  lyi'ic  elrnu  nt.  Tise  inlliienciiig  cjium' 
has  to  be  suuu'ht  not  alone  in  phv>-ical  surround iii''-, 


I'   -   . 
but  in  language,  habits,  and  other  features. 


( "alif 


orJiia  cvimliines  se\'era 


1    f 


ivormir  coi 


id  it 


ions,  III 


grand  scener\',  <le!ightfnl  air.  aiid  a  motley  represent- 
ation from  cultivated  nations.  Musicshops  ami 
teacher.s  are  exceptionally  mmierous  in  tSan  FiiUi- 
risco  and  other  centres;  pianos  and  other  insirunienr> 
resound  in  all  (|uarters,  and  vcr.se  is  .sandwicJKMJ  in!" 
all  grad(-s  of  entcjrtainment  The  taste  is  conspim- 
ous  since  early  colonial  days,  wlien  the  Spanisli  fadl- 
it\-  foi'  viTsilication  was   iilustrated  amonef  settlers  in 


ready  improvisation  on  local  t(»pics,  at  social  reuinens 
aided  as  they  weve  ly  the  easy  assonance  rliyiniir/ 
In  political  circles  .satire  iU)Wed  freely.   Their  ctl'u&iuii- 


I'OKTkY. 


(■>♦:! 


nan  hardly  bo  said  to  liavc  readied  the  nrade  of 
poetry,  howevrr.  Tliis  awaited  the  iiiHux  of  educated 
lK'(»j»l('  alter  tlie  ineiiiorahle  gold  discoxcry. 

It  !i)ight  be  ex[»eeted  tliat  tiie  display  here  of 
strange  seeneH  and  n<tvrl  and  varied  eondFtions  wliieli 
hurst  ujiou  tlu;  iuiinigrants,  after  a  long  interval  of 
uiouotonv  autl  hardsliip  on  the  niareli  and  vo\a''(', 
uould  prove  inspiring.  The  eoujitry  undoubteiHy 
jtresented  itself  a  paradise  and  treasure-Held,  hut 
the  preoccupation  of  mining  and  other  pursuits,  and 
the  unsettled  state  of  atHaiis,  gave  litth'  opportunity 

As  sorictv  hi'gan  to  ci'vstallize. 


for  verse   wiitin 

liowever,    and    joiirnals     multiplied,    togethei'    with 


epiienieral  ina<j:a/ni<'S, 


th 


)( »e 


s  corner  lured  onwan 


I 


:i  fast  ijrowin'''  eon>.rihution.  In  the  second  decade 
rhymesters  could  l.i(>  counted  i)y  the  hundred.  They 
))ei'tained  to  the  sj)asniodic  grade,  which  too  cltarly 
pointed  to  t\io  prevailing  utilitarianism,  and  to  imita- 
tive or  inculcated  forms  which  (tvershadowi d  {)roxi- 

I 


IVeS 


ni  \ani  am 


mate  objiMts,  and  «  \h  lUsted  tlu-m^ 

ie;h>  pursuit  of  loftier  theiuo,  too  often  utterly  remote 

uiid  inappropi'iate. 

This  neglect,  thougli  mainly  du(^  to  lack  of  poetic 
instinct,  gave  the  opportunity  which  brought  fame 
to  the  two  nuMi  who  so  fai-  figure  as  tl 
.>en 


10   repre- 
tativo  ]ioets  of  the   coast,  by    \  Irtue   of  training, 


characteristic    sue.jects.    asid    liigii    e\c(  Wvua 


Jhvt 


llarte  cai'iicd  the  Califoinia  stori(>s  into  verse,  and 
tlierein  likewise  atiiinied  his  position  as  the  foumh-r 
of  a  new  scliool  of  dialect  writing.  Xevertheless  his 
f  iremost  element  hi're  is  the  rxipiisite  satire   which 


lirst  lifted   him  to   fani' 


n   the  lli'itilio)  Vit'nicr 


lb 


ds  th(>  analysis,  pith,  and  exp.ressiveness  displayed 
in  tlie  ('i)mkiiHid  Xonl.-i,  aiid  intousides  tin;  pathetic 


an( 


I  d(5scriptiv(*  )»ower  of  his  tales 


Tlie  poet  of  iiispiiatioii 


!s 


Cincimiatus  Heine  ?Jiller, 


horn  in  Ohio,  but  beKjUging  since  his  teens  to  Oregon 


and  C^dif  irnia,  whei'e  he  also  passei 

of   maiiliood,    though    in    a    roaming    ami    desultor} 


I  the  tirst  dec.nh 
lt« 


044 


EAIILY   CALIFOnXIA   T.ITKUATURE. 


numnor.     Tlic  first  collection  of  pooms  was  issued  at 
Portland  in  180'.),  under  the  t'\t\v,  Joaquin  ctal,  a  name 
lie  had  ado|)ted  out  of  admiration  for  the   noted  Cal- 
ifornia  handit,  Joaquin   Murieta.      It  received    suffi- 
cient  reco<^nition    to    encoura^je    liis   aspirations    for 
wider   fame.       And    so    he  started  for  the  Atlantic 
states  and  I']nL?land,  there  to  obtain  an  attention,  per- 
haj»s  not  equal  to  his  own  expectations,  yet  somewhat 
sfartlinjjf  to  his  coast  oom])atriots,   who  had    looked 
down  u[)on  him  as  a  flighty  i)ohemian.     The  Sovf/s  of 
the  Sicrrm  had  an  alluriii*j!;  western  ring  for  the  l^rit- 
ish  ear,   and  its  (  hami)ionship  of  opi)ressed  Indians 
added  a  claim  on  New   England   sympathisers.     Tin 
subjects  are  largely    based  on  jH'rsonal   experience  in 
the  wilds  and  the  mountains,  among  his  former  coni- 
|)anions,   tin-  aborigines  and  miners,   and    under  tin 
bajuier  of  Walker,  the  filibuster.     A  "  loose  and  un 
couth  bou(|uet,"  he  calls  the  book,  and  so  it  is,  though 
with   many  a  beautiful    flower.       Tlie   imagery,   \'rv 
quiMitly  rich  and  striking,  degenerates  too  oft<Mi    intn 
the  fantastic  an<l  absurd.     Vigor  and  puerility,  the 
gorgeous  and  bare,  stand  side  by  si(h;;  lofty  iiispira 
tion  and  crude  ])rosaism  with  slips  of  grammar.     Now 
a  series  of  Hyronic  flashes,  then  an  in»petuous  flow  of 
verbiage.      These  glaring  defects   long   maintained  a 
euiTi'iit  of  ridicule  against  him,  especially  at   home, 
but   moie   impaitial   judges   abroad   recognized    that 
although  uneven  and  little  polished,  the  diamond  h.nl 
the   true  sparkle  of  genuineness.      A   reception   was 
assured    f>r   his  "^Iiailoirfi  of  Shasta,  «SV)»7,s' of  the  Sun- 
land,   and   other  verse,    which    contiiuie     the     initial 
topics,  and  he  ac(juired  a  position  among  second-clas-; 
poets.      Tales,  novels,  and  dramas  point  the  profitaM'' 
v'arietv  of  his   i)en.  yet  indicate   no   improvement  in 
methdii 

I  [art.  was  instrmn<Mital  in  procuring  wider  jtublici'v 
for  a  number  of  early  California  verse-makers,  liy 
issuing  in  IHr><»  a  selection  of  tiieir  work  under  tiie 
title  of  (h(ff'roitpi)i(js.     While  little  noticed  abroad  it 


rOKTRY. 


f4r. 


'•ini- 

itial 

■1:.-^ 

ilM- 

it  ill 

iriU' 

•  ''>■ 

■    1  1 :'' 

x\  it 

created  nmcli  local  attention,  chiefly  on  the  part  of  tlie 
overlooked  aspirants.  After  an  exchange  of  sharp 
|)t'n-thrusts  tliey  prevailed  on  Mary  Wentworth  (Mrs 
K(!uniann)  to  do  tiit  in  jnstice  by  sendinj^'  forth  a  larger 
collfction  undi'r  tlu"  imposing  tith;  »»f  I'ortri/  of  (Ik; 
l\(i'li\(\  vvhieli  utterly  ignores  tlu;  prt-ccding  vnluni<\ 
npi-ating  its  choicest  bits.  The  st'K'clion  is  ccrtaiiiiy 
nioH!  rei)resentative  and  enihraeos  such  well  knowo 
names  as  E.  Pollock,  ('.  W.  Stoddard,  L.  and  .1.  T. 


(rood 


man,  F.  Soule,  the   \eteran  singer 


J.  I 


AXh'W,  t 


r. 


\i.  llidgiN  W.  A.  Krndall,  J.  F.  Howman,  1  [.  ('. 
Dorr,  and  on  the  female  side  with  an  ecjiial  array;  F. 
F.    V'ictor,   who  enjoyed    the  preemiiu-nt   distinction 


of  havm>'  acliievei 


1  a  [>l 


ace  iu 


the   g 


rallcrv  o 


f  A 


mcri- 


can  poets  [)rior  to  her  arrival,  partly  by  means  (»f  iier 
volumi!  entitled  l^oanx  of  S(  ul/'nioif  and  fnun/iiKiliou, 
l(S.>l,  and  who  hiin'  sought  es[H'cially  to  link  tho  fan- 
t'ii!s  of  till'  Sacramento  and  the  Columbia;  Carrie 
(wirltoM.  the  humorist  K.  Lawson,  K.  A.  Simonton, 
l*ag'',  (JIara  CIy<le,  A[ay  Wentworth,  Mrs  Field,  and 
Ina  Ctolbrith.  Most  of  tliese  nuist  l)e  assigned  to 
the  [) -riod  of  ami  aftijr  the  union  war.     Among  th 


earlier  li 'hts  J 


OllOl 


■k    stands   alone,  credited  with    a 


certain  degre-  of  originality,  but  his  pieces  weri^  not 
of  such  a  character  as  to  attain  special  publication 
afttn'  his  dea,tii.  Stoddai'd,  who  i'anked  clos((  t<»  him, 
soon  turneil  his  rellectivc  and  de.scriptive  fancy  into 
the  idyllic  prose  sketches  on  which  his  ri'putation  now 
rests.  Am  )iig  the  most  gifted  of  female  poets  may 
he  placed  Mary  11.  Field,  who  wrote. I//  Arhoml  Sdii;/. 
iVmoiig  the  first  metric  eiVusions  published  in  special 
form  in  (California.  w;is  filailina  by  llariy  Quillam, 
liich  sold  well  (U'spife  its  stilted  medioci'ity.  Some 
■\ipjisit«  ly  written  and  illusti'ated  Nolumes  have  been 


w 


i>sm 


d  by  Mrs  M.   U.    M.  Toland. 


Women  swelled  the  ranks  of  writers  in  this  as  well 
as  other  lighter  bjanches  of  liti  I'ature,  in  I'ver  grow- 
ing numbers  aftei-  the  first  di'cade,  and  exhibit  a  com- 
jMiatively  greatei*  improvement  in  shorter  pieces,  loi' 


646 


EARLY  CALIFOUNIA  I-I'l  KKATL'UE. 


tlieir  aml)itI<>us(lK)rtsureuii.su.stuiiU'(l  in  jxiw'tu'.  From 
thiir  fugitive  i»iL'(  cs  alone  coultl  ho  formed  an  antliul- 
(>,ny  apjiropi'iate  to  the  coast,  wiiicli  nii*^lit  saf  ly 
cliallenge  ('<)m[)urisoii  with  the  [)rotluctions  of  okitr 
states. 

Those  of  C'ahfornia  were  imitative  like  all  coloni;;! 
cH'iits,  and  still  remain  so  in  a  great  measure,  sij)|»iiig 
alike  from  eastern  and  J^ritish  sourct'S.  Nevertheless, 
an  early  independent  Hight  is  ohsirvid  in  ]^ret  ITarte, 
and  a  wide  recognition  for  true  [toetic  spirit  was  oh- 
tained  in  anothi'r,  beside  which  we  hehold  many  a 
gleam  of  originality  in  contemporary  essays.  The 
mass  is  remai'kahle  rather  for  suhdued  sweetness  and 
pathos,  however,  than  for  thundering  a[»ostro[»lies  (  r 
tiery  c  nunciation.  Inspiration  was  found  less  in  nature's 
as|)ects,  although  scenery  is  both  grand  and  conn)act, 
with  the  infinite  ocean  on  one  side  and  the  siiow- 
criAvned  Sii'i'ra  on  the  otljer.  It  sprang  rather  from 
the  novel  and  varied  social  conditions.  J  [arte  ob- 
served the  deHciency  in  descri[)tive  and  pastoral  efforts, 
and  ascribed  it  to  absence  of  well-defim^d  seasons  ami 
to  the  conse((uent  monotony;  but  another  and  full\ 
as  strong  an  inHuence  is  to  be  observed,  which  alUcts 
also  the  tone  in  general  with  an  elegiac  strain,  par- 
ticularly in  relli'ctive  passages.  A  restlessness  and 
yearning  is  noticeable  of  pemling  as[>irations,  of  in 
com|>lete  fulfilment,  which  harmonizes  with  the  strug- 
gle fV)r  wealth,  the  speculative  bent,  and  the  unsettled 
state  of  affairs  so  gteatly  due  to  a  stimulating  ( li- 
mate.  Hence  the  soaring  pieans  correspomling  t^i 
the  instilled  exuberance  of  thought  and  action; 
ftillowed  by  dcj)ressions,  of  pensive  melancholy— lik'' 
the  two  seasons  of  bustle  and  idleness,  »)f  rain  aiil 
sunshine. 

Within  th(!  past  decac'i'  or  two  pastoral  verse 
has  markedly  increased,  following  ujton  the  li<i  Is 
of  social  evolution  like  other  brandies  of  art.  Tlic 
comic  aspect  stands  revealed  in  the  California  stoiy, 
so  fruitful  a  source  for  compositions,  and  so  extreme 


EN(  i EXDERINfi  CON DITIONS. 


647 


in  that  deviation  now  observable  among  Americans 
from  puritan  reverence  aiitl  soberness.  It  does  not 
Iiowever  descend  to  the  Hii)pant  «^ayety  disphiyed  in 
i\[exican  poetry,  wliich  is  alKcted  by  a  similar  under- 
current of  sadness.  In  California  both  elements  are 
moditi(;d  by  a  more  practical  tone  and  a  greater 
streiii^th  and  indepeiukiice  of  mind,  which,  reactiiii; 
likewise  on  the  pervading  exuberan<'e  in  society  and 
tJH!  attendant  unpromising  fluctuati(»ns  of  character, 
may  in  time  assert  themselves  in  lofty  and  sustaineti 
|)roductions  worthy  of  an  auspicious  bej^inning  and  of 
enduring  reputation. 

Gold  and  the  cross  play  similar  rAles  in  Spanish 
America  and  along  the  IVicific  coast,  in  planting  the 
foundation  for  settlement,  and  inipnssing  tlieir  re- 
s[)ectivc  stami)S  on  society  and  literature,  (jold,  with 
its  ])ale  sister,  proved  the  more  energetic  and  enter- 
prising. ]\Iore  potent  than  royalty  or  ri'ligion,  it 
i'liored  or  overcame  obstacles  which  were  dei med 
impassable  under  any  other  auspices,  impi'lling  on- 
ward explorers,  concpierors,  and  colonists,  converting 
the  wilderness  to  civilization. 

The  cross  followed  close  behind  to  seek  a  share  in 
the  unfolding  treasure,  and  strengthening  ]»illars  for 
its  power  in  aboriginal  converts.  ]']n( ouiaged  by 
success  it  pressed  onward  when  the  other  leader  fal- 
tered before  the  shattereil  fable  of  golden  cities,  and 
the  dwindling  veins  of  }irecious  metals.  It  beckoned 
the  conqueror  on  to  glory,  and  joined  with  settlers  in 
bendiuLT  the  Indian  to  the  v<»ke.  It  infused  fresh 
spirit,  and  with  aid  of  tlio  harpy-visaged  inquisition 
stanqK'd  all  efforts  with  its  seal.  It  occupied  tin.' 
historic  field  with  naive  chronicles;  filled  biogra[>hy 
with  dreary  ascetic  experiences ;  irowded  out  science 
with  scholastic  polemics  and  homilies.  It  immured 
the  foremost  nmse  of  jSIexico  within  a  convent,  and 
walled  the  masses  round  with  ignorance ;  but  it  also 
raised  monasteries  as  depositories  for  learning  toward 
a  later  revival. 


n 

■>  \ 

1 

J 

"""■  r-' 

ijil.:.:;! 

■  ■(..:    ■ ; 

i  •' 

i\ 

if"  \ 

■,!i.  ' 

648 


EARLY  CALIFORNIA  LITERATURE. 


When  during  tho  republic  men  foil  off  in  allo«^ianre 
to  wrangle  on  battlo-fickl  and  in  legislative  liall, 
the  church  still  retained  the  hold  on  inipressionaMe 
women  and  children.  Through  them  mainly  was 
retained  in  California  a  foothold  for  the  church  wliieh 
l»ad  changed  it  from  a  savage  hunting  ground  to  a 
prosperous  pastoral  colony,  centering  round  the  fast 
crumblin*'  missions.  California  became  the  scene  of  the 
irreatest  subversion  of  reliiiious  influence  in  the  demo- 
cratic  levelling  which  attended  tho  gold  discovery ; 
and  this  extended  also  over  Oregon  atid  beyond,  to 
Alaska,  where  occupation  had  been  established  under 
missionary  auspices. 

Gold  assorted  once  more  its  superior  might  by  sur- 
passing tho  slow  advance  of  clerical  leaders  in  thi; 
sudden  transformation  of  dosort  valleys  into  populous 
states.  It  provided  tho  grandest  of  topics  for  history 
and  poetry,  the  finest  of  wefts  for  fiction,  great  char- 
actors  P)r  biograpliy,  and  a  new  field  for  science.  It 
moulded  every  aspiration  and  utterance,  and  brushtMl 
away  the  cobwebs  of  conventional  influence  and  tra- 
dition ;  it  produced  tho  condition  on  which  rose  tht; 
Cj,lifornia  story,  to  lift  to  fame  humorists,  dialect 
writers,  and  poets. 

Tho  profane  assumed  absolute  sway,  and  thougli 
California  was  once  mor>)  declared  a  mission  field,  into 
which  different  sects  poured  their  apostles,  and  began 
under  the  powerful  patronage  of  inflowing  women  a 
work  of  regeneration  by  means  of  congregations, 
tracts,  and  religious  journals,  naught  availed  against 
omnipotent  gold.  Doctrines  and  worship  sank  to  thiir 
proper  level  as  mere  refining  agents.  Progress,  uii 
luimpered,8ped  on  its  way,  leaving  California's  fonn-r 
mistress  still  struggling  to  free  herself  from  the  hur 
don  of  the  cross. 

Besides  tho  all-compoUhig  gold  and  cross,  many 
other  influences  have  impressed  themselves  on  litera- 
ture. In  Mexico  conquest  and  race  feelini;,  an  oppres- 
sive  state  and  church  [)olicy,  and  the  Spanish  dis- 


SOCIAL  CON'DITION'S. 


C49 


rof^nrd  for  and  suHpicion  (»f  creoK's,  oMf()rro<l  a  non- 
committal toiu!  ill  so  maiiv  dirootions  tliat  iimotions 
had  to  seek  a  dis.juis<'d  vent,  iiotablv  in  rdi'loiis 
toj)irs  and  amatoiy  i)o(>tiy.  Witli  tin-  ivvolution 
asceticism  was  to  some  extent  cast  aside  in  favor  <  f 
tlic  fi«'ry  jmtriotic  spirit  wliicli  invaded  all  l>i*anelies  (  f 
literature.  This  was  sustained  l»y  internecine!  wars 
and  fori'ij^n  invasions,  and  spread  in  feeUK;  rell(>ction 
to  California  and  other  frontier  re;^ions.  l[erc  how- 
ever rose  more  potent  factors  in  the  wake  of  the 
vast  metal  discoveries:  an  adventurous  inten  onrse 
by  sea  and  lan<l,  the  intlux  of  Meets,  the  rise  of  camps 
and  towns,  the  unfoldinj^  of  resources  on  a  scale  of 
unparallele«l  niaijjnitude,  the  *;rowth  of  new  race  an- 
ti|)athies  betwi'en  Latin  and  Teutonic  Americans,  and 
ajjfainst  intrudini^  Mon<j;ols.  This  and  the  vaLial)nnd- 
a^(!  fost(;red  by  the  roamini^  life  of  miners  ^;ave  a 
foothold  for  socialistic  writin^^s,  while  the  t^rowth  of 
niono[>oly,  particularly  in  land,  sui^i^ested  the  widely 
read  works  of  Henry  (Jleorgo.  Camp  life  with  its 
incon<j;ruities  start(^d  a  new  dialect  literature,  wltli 
ra<'y  humor  and  satire.  Later  and  more  st date  de- 
velopments promoted  a  tastt-  for  idyllic  compositions. 
The  union  war  imparted  a  j^lowtosmoulderiiii:;  patriot- 
ism, and  the  extendini?  intercours*;  with  adjacent 
countries  opened  wider  fields  for  observation. 

Both  Mexico  and  (\'ilifornia  cherished  the  exuber- 
ance which  is  so  lart^ely  associated  with  minin-^  and 
frontier  settlements.  It  appeal's  in  the  extravagance 
of  the  California  story,  in  the  bent  for  irreverent  and 
exajjf'^erated  witticism,  in  imitations  of  Foe's  weird 
fancies,  in  soarinj^  oi-atory,  and  sensational  novels  and 
dramas.  Mexico  partook  of  similar  fancies,  es|)ecially 
the  droll,  j^ay,  and  satiric,  while  tin*  floriated  (ionn'o- 
rism  in  style  found  here  a  more  abidinj^  home  than  in 
Spain,  owiiii^  to  the  natural  dis[)osition  of  the  people 
for  artificial  eft'usivcness. 

The  elcijjiac  strain,  which  schmus  a  natural  antithesis 
to  this  exuberant  spirit  and  activity,  harmonizes  with 


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650 


EARLf  CALIFORNIA  LITERATURE. 


the  idea  enfolding  this  extreme  western  shore.  It  is 
the  terminal  land  for  the  Aryan  march  of  centuries 
from  their  Asiatic  cradle  to  the  borders  of  the  great 
ocean  intervening  between  them  and  their  ancient 
lionie.  Wliile  the  tone  here  is  greatly  due  to  climate, 
in  ^lexico  it  ccMnes  also  in  inheritance  from  the  abor- 
igines, among  whom  it  lies  impressed  by  centuries  of 
tyranny  and  bloody  worship,  followed  by  serfdom 
under  Spain.  The  Yankee  has  likewise  been  termed 
by  many  observers  a  mournful  soul,  in  his  inner- 
most deptlis,  despite  his  dry  humor.  Grimaldi  was 
a  lugubrious  fellow  at  home.  We  know  of  Irish 
gayety,  but  also  of  the  melancholy  which  pervades 
his  favorite  standard  songs,  and  of  the  doleful  refrains 
of  the  cronies  at  the  hearth. 

Amatory  poetry  and  sentimental  tales  occupy  lead- 
ing i)laces  in  Mexican  literature.  The  cause  may  be 
traced  to  a  semi-tropic  clime  and  to  the  propensities 
arising  with  race  mixture,  but  is  greatly  due  to  the 
oriental  seclusion  of  young  women,  drawn  from  Moor- 
ish-Iberian custom,  with  the  attendant  serenade. 
Yei  like  the  prevailing  conventionalities  everything 
is  glossed,  leaving  the  passionate  impulses  in  tlio 
undercurrent.  Allusions  to  the  family  are  reverently 
tender,  but  satire  is  a})t  to  be  somewhat  gross.  In 
business  intercourse,  words  and  promises  count  for 
little,  and  in  partisan  affairs  no  one  ventures  to  come 
forth  without  an  array  of  substantiating  documents  to 
prove  statements,  (if  all  this  an  inkling  comes  to  us 
through  the  colonial  occupants  of  California.  The 
different  traits  and  habits  of  the  colder  Anglo-Saxon 
revealed  little  of  such  tendencies.  Nevertheless,  the 
climate  and  peculiar  social  conditions  have  effected 
certain  changes;  and  it  is  to  be  noticed  that  a  number 
of  sentimental  novels  have  been  written,  almost  exclu 
sively  by  women,  and  frequently  in  a  tone  far  fruui 
healthy. 

Women  have   here   contributed   an   exceptionally 
large    pr()i)ortion    of  light    literature,    owing   to   tlic 


ABORIGINAL. 


651 


preoccupation  of  men  witli  exacting  business  pursuits. 
The  striking  scenes  of  actual  life  were,  besides,  too 
absorbing  to  allow  for  the  latter  to  yield  much  of 
their  attention  to  maudlin  fancies.  The  adulation  of 
woman,  the  general  attluence,  and  the  disposition  for 
hotel  life  to  the  avoidance  of  household  cares,  pro- 
vided her  with  an  excess  of  leisure  that  impelled  many 
to  enter  the  literary  field.  The  productions  affirm 
the  verdict  of  her  inferiority  to  the  man,  as  may  bo 
expected  under  the  deterring  intluenccs  of  frontier  life, 
wliich  have  until  lately  held  back  the  higher  grades 
of  her  sex.  In  Mexico,  on  tiie  contrary,  women  stand 
more  nearly  on  a  plane  of  intellectual  equality  with 
the  men,  although  neglected  in  education  and  socially 
restrained,  as  illustrated  in  the  dueima  system,  which 
stamps  them  with  an  absurd  irresponsibility.  When 
married,  prudence  concedes  a  flattering  deference  to 
their  lords.  Nevertheless,  a  number  of  promising 
female  liglits  have  appeared  of  late  in  poetry  and 
prose  fiction,  fn)m  which  in  time  may  emerge  a  fitting 
successor  to  the  Mexican  nun,  who  in  Spain  ranks  as 
the  tenth  nmse. 

■  California  has  no  rich  aboriginal  sources  from  which 
to  gather  inspiration  and  prestige  for  her  literature  ; 
nothing  beyond  some  puerile  hieroglyi)hics  on  rock 
walls,  and  a  few  vague  myths  concerning  faded  tribes 
and  geographic  points  of  interest,  half  intimated  in 
the  musical  names  transmitted  to  us.  Spanish- 
America  rejoices  in  an  abundance  of  native  records, 
backed  by  traditions,  and  mingled  with  legends 
bearing  tlie  im[)ress  of  both  a  Hesiod  and  an 
Ossian.  And  what  may  not  the  unsolvetl  Maya  pic- 
ture-writings disclose  to  a  coming  Cham[)ollion  1 

Race  infiuences  are  ai)[)arent  in  both  regions :  in 
Latin  America  in  triple  degree.  The  aborigines,  after 
long  providing  men'ly  toi)ics,  have  recently  entered 
into  active  com[)etltion  in  letters,  to  balance  witli 
tlu'ir  sedate  tone  the  florid  exuberance  of  the  mes- 
tizo.    The  sprightly  vivacity  of  the  latter  has  led  him 


652 


EAKLY  CALIFORNIA  LITERATURE. 


to  the  exaggerated  cultlsino,  and  his  spasmodic  energy 
and  lovo  for  gloss  to  superficiality.  The  less  imagina- 
tive and  njorc  patient  Indian  inclines  to  history  and 
science,  leaving  the  li!j:ht(;r  branches  chieHv  to  the 
soaring  taste  and  as[)irations  of  the  other.  The 
Spaniard,  who  used  to  give  the  impress  to  colonial 
productions,  responded  to  the  varying  fashions  of 
peninsular  style,  yet  in  a  more  stately  and  dignitied 
form  than  the  extreme-loving  half-brother.  In  CuH- 
fornia  both  the  latter  are  perceptible  in  the  trans- 
mitted memoirs  and  records,  chiefly  in  manuscri[)t. 
After  the  Americans  came  the  Latin  element  decliniMl 
to  mere  subjects  for  writing,  together  with  the  fast 
disappearing  Indian;  yet  both  figure  so  prominent'y 
and  attractively  on  the  pages  as  to  impart  a  marked 
character  to  them,  and  they  promise  to  gain  in  inter- 
est as  traditional  features.  Tlie  predominating  in- 
fluence comes,  however,  from  England  no  less  than 
from  the  Atlantic  states,  and  is  sustained  in  all  its 
freshness  by  periodicals  and  books.  The  Germaii 
and  Frencli  impress  is  indirect  and  slight. 

The  effect  of  these  inflneuceson  the  two  fields  of  lit- 
erature is  strikingl}^  revealed  in  the  newspapers,  wliic  li 
by  systematically  courting  public  taste,  attain  the  form 
of  an  index  to  it.  The  California  press,  while  sensa- 
tional and  careless  in  style,  gives  preference  in  tlic 
odd  colunms  to  sport,  science,  and  art.  It  presents  a 
mean  between  the  ponderous  and  dignified  tone  of 
British  journals,  and  the  frivolously  bright  sheets  of 
France.  Spanisli-Americans  cling  to  the  latter,  and 
indicate  their  lighter  fanc\  bv  a  demand  for  feuilletou 
novels,  althouiih  women  there  take  little  to  news- 
papers. 

The  aboriiifines  of  North  America  arc  accredited 
with  a  flowery  diction,  which  borrows  nmch  of  its 
beauty  from  nature,  and  is  rendered  the  more  lofty  by 
an  association  of  striking  objects  witli  deities  and 
spirits.  This  is  apj)licable  to  the  region  southward 
only   in  a  limited  degree.     We  behold  allusions  in 


ABORIGINAL. 


C53 


Quicli^  tradition  partaking  of  a  certain  eloquence  and 
nature  painting,  hut  they  are  crude,  and  the  natives 
of  to-(hiy  reveal  a  deficiency  of  imagination.  Al- 
though the  Aztecs  and  other  unniixed  tribes  are  con- 
spicuously fond  of  flowers  and  of  the  open  air,  their 
imagery  is  subdued  and  stunted,  as  if  the  o])])re8sion 
of  centuries  had  dwarfed  their  fancy  and  restricted 
it  to  minor  and  immediate  objects.  Mexicans  did  not 
inherit  a  umcii  wider  taste  for  soenerv  from  tlie  ini- 
migrants  of  the  bare  uplands  of  Iberia.  Neveitheless, 
they  are  now  cultivating  tlie  descriptive  to  some  ex- 
tent. The  peculiar  climate  t)f  California,  and  the 
restless  activity  prevailing  there,  have  also  circum- 
scribed  this  class  of  writing  ;  but  the  inspiring  variety 
of  landscape  in  the  sunset  land,  whicli  attracts  an 
ever  growing  number  of  tourists  and  camping  par- 
ties, is  asserting  itself  more  and  more. 

Tlie  successive  supplanting  of  languages  in  Cali- 
fornia has  been  an  improvement  in  every  instance. 
The  musical  intonation  observable  in  native  names 
applies  only  in  a  limited  degree  to  the  mass  of  dialects 
there  existing.  The  smooth  flow  of  Si^anisli  is  well- 
known,  however,  with  its  ready  assonant  riijnie,  so 
fiivorablo  to  improvisation  ;  but  it  lacks  the  strength 
and  expressiveness  of  the  English,  which  possesses, 
moreover,  a  tuneful  iambic  rhythm,  or  cu[)honious 
ring,  and  a  flexibility  and  variety  ])erniitting  a  wide 
range  for  choice  between  the  softer  and  harsher 
words.  The  displacement  of  aboriginal  dialects  was 
a  gain  in  many  respects.  Crude  and  poor  languages 
viflded  to  those  of  a  higher  inflected  type  The  sub- 
stitution of  many  tongues  for  one  promoted  in 
Sj)anish-America  a  healthful  unification  among  the 
r  i.'cs,  which  had  so  far  been  held  estranged  by  lin- 
;_'\iistic  and  other  barriers,  and  torn  by  strife  It 
promoted  intercourse  and  civilization,  notwithstanding 
the  new  obstructions  interposed  by  a  narrow  state 
j>olicy.  The  introduction  of  English  was  a  still  further 
advance,  by  virtue  of  its  superior  qualities,  and  by 


6S4 


EARLY  CALIFORNIA  LITERATURE. 


reason  of  its  wide  swav.  so  fovoraMc  to  the  exrlianire 
of  ideas,  to  peaceful  intercourse,  to  ])rogress. 

The  services  wliicli  the  Spaiiisli  tougnc  alone 
has  rendered  illustrates  the  advniitaujes  of  a  uni- 
versal lamjuaixe.  To  this  we  are  clearlv  driftin<j:, 
despite  tlie  narrow  patriotic  eftorts  in  dift'crcnt 
directions  to  increase  tlie  number  of  distinct 
tongues  by  reviving  many,  neglected  and  decayed, 
as  in  Ireland  and  Finland.  This  raising  of  bar- 
riers  for  the  sake  of  sustaining  antiquated  national 
f  )rnis  and  empty  traditions  is  to  obstruct  culture  and 
advancement.  It  imposes  on  future  generations  tlic 
burden  of  mastering  several  tongues,  or  confines  them 
within  the  limits  of  less  effective  forms  of  expression, 
excluding  them  from  free  participation  in  the  glorious 
revelations  of  sciences  and  arts,  which  seek  outlet  in 
the  richest  and  mo.st  wide-spread  language.  It  taxes 
and  distorts  every  scrap  of  needful  information  by  the 
trouble,  cost,  and  defects  of  translations. 

Eidightenment  will  not  long  suffer  such  shackles. 
A  universal  tongue  nmst  in  time  prevail.  Destiny 
points  to  English  as  the  medium  of  the  most  progres- 
sive peoples,  who  numerically  surpass  all  other  lin- 
guistic groups,  save  the  Chinese,  holding  sway  in 
North  America,  Australia,  southern  Africa  and  Asia, 
and  in  the  island  cradle,  besides  controlling  most 
maritime  centres  and  districts  of  the  world,  the  dis- 
tributing points  for  practical  culture.  Its  adaptal)ihty 
alike  for  poetry,  narrative,  and  science  is  unequallctl 
by  any  other  language.  With  the  simplest  of  grani- 
matic  structure,  it  is  easy  to  acquire.  Its  onlv  great 
defect  lies  in  the  orthogra|>hy,  which  can  readily  hi' 
remedied,  and  is  fast  improving,  if  not  under  the  rad- 
ical ni:'tliod  of  Pitman's  phonetic  spelling,  at  least 
under  the  efforts  of  societies  and  lit(^rary  leaders  to 
gradually  eliminate  useless  forms.  When  remodelled, 
it  need  fear  no  competititm  from  such  artificial  substi- 
tutes as  Volapuk,  of  uncouth  aspect.  The  wide  sup- 
port given  by  philosophic  Germans  to  this  new  medium 


LANGUAGE. 


653 


Indicatoi?  the  grnwinuf  streniijtli  of  tho  universal izint; 
idea,  and  sliould  stiiaulato  Eiiglisli-spoaking  peoples 
to  pusli  the  necessary  reformation  of  defects,  which 
are  no  less  hai'assini;  and  burdensome  to  them  than  to 
foreign  students. 

Spanish  is  unsurpassed  for  harmonious  orthography, 
and  its  value  is  demonstrated  in  the  purity  of  diction 
among  all  classes  in  Spain  and  America,  where  even 
the  beggar  speaks  correctly,  ahnost  elegantly.  True, 
the  national  character  contributes  its  influence. 
Nevertheless,  Americanisms  have  crept  in  among 
tlie  colonists,  althouiih  tliev  arc  ncarlv  all  of  so  com- 
mondal)le  a  ijjrade  that  tho  learned  and  exact  Alaman 
advocated  their  reco<j[nition  in  Mexico,  as  consistent 
with  colonial  writing.  These  innovations  are  more 
numerous  in  Engli.sh,  and  indicate  in  a  measure  the 
rise  of  dialects,  of  wliich  the  lan<'uaLj;e  in  its  insular 
evolution  has  left  strangely  l)road  tracks  in  so  small 
and  unbroken  a  country  as  England.  Improved 
communication  and  the  increase  of  schools  and  news- 
papers are  fast  contributing  to  the  obliteration  of 
such  corrupt  and  undesirable  distinctions.  The  orig- 
inality and  practical  sense  of  the  Anglo-Saxons  account 
partly  for  the  growth  of  Americanisms,  as  they  do  of 
vulgar  but  expressive  slang.  The  character  of  neitlu^r 
peo[)lo  nor  language  in  Spanish  America  is  favoral)le 
to  the  latter  class  of  inchoate  epigram,  whether  from 
classic  or  common  source.  CalifoiMiia  has  beiMi  very 
free  in  adopting  new  words,  with  her  unconventional 
and  reckless  frontier  and  mining  traits,  which  delight 
in  expressive  and  concisi^  utterance.  Much  is  S[)an- 
ish,  as  inculcated  and  in  vo^uc  among  earlv  American 
settlers. 

Under  a  comparatively  recent  development  America 
escaped  the  varied  iidluence  of  foreign  schools,  which 
made  themselves  felt  in  England  as  well  as  Spain. 
It  confined  itself  chiefly  to  one  fount,  sip[»ing  the 
clarified  essence  of  manifold  distillation.  Mexico 
und  jrwcut,  however,  a  greater  degree  of  buti'eting  in 


n 


III  I 


65C 


EARLY  CALIFORNIA  LITERATLTlE. 


style  than  the  ITnitcd  States,  partly  owintjf  to  the  loss 
even  course  of  the  Spanish  language,  as  compared 
with  tlie  English,  since  Shakespeare.  Yet  she  re- 
mains essentially  a  copyist  of  Spanish  models,  witii  an 
admixture  chiefly  from  France  The  United  States 
accepted  a  hroader  tint,  under  the  influx  of  Teutonic 
and  Latin  colonists,  with  which  to  temper  the  predom- 
inating Britisli  standard.  California  adheres  to  a  ju- 
dicious mingling  of  Anglo-Saxon  t^'pes  from  hotli 
sides  of  the  Atlantic.  She  follows  the  uuidance  of 
eastern  centers,  yet  reveals  in  scenes,  characters,  and 
terms  the  effect  of  intercourse  with  Spanish  settlers, 
which  has  not,  however,  led  to  any  ai)preciable  study 
of  Iberian  literature. 

Notwithstanding  her  youth  and  preoccupation,  and 
the  discouraging  competition  of  eastern  literature  for 
local  jmtronage,  California  has  repaid  her  indebtedness 
to  universal  knowledge  with  rare  promptness  and 
profusion,  revealing  the  intensity  of  her  intellectual 
as  well  as  material  development.  She;  contributed 
writers  of  world-wide  fame  in  nearly  all  the  leadinu- 
branches  of  letters,  and  assisted  to  give  new  direction 
to  research  and  thought,  fancy  and  feeling.  The  last 
is  instanced  in  a  certain  democratic  levelling  and 
irruption  on  puritanic  soberness.  Mexico's  response 
for  similar  cunmlative  inheritance  has  been  very 
meagre,  considering  her  age.  The  cause  lies  greatly 
in  an  objectionable  colonial  policy  and  a  disturbed 
condition,  in  too  rigid  adherence  to  models,  and  lack 
of  earnestness.  Yet  the  United  States  was  nearly 
as  backward  during  colonial  times,  and  it  is  only  since 
the  union  war  that  this  country  can  be  said  to  have 
acquired  a  position  in  literature  commensurate  witii 
its  national  importance. 

The  isolation  of  the  first  two  decades,  prior  to  the 
opening  of  railway  communication  with  the  cast, 
favored,  in  a  measure,  the  local  cultivation  of  letters, 
as  indicated  by  the  more  flourishing  condition  of 
light  periodicals.     A  nmch  smaller  population  sup- 


rilYslC'AL  CONDITIONS. 


G57 


supported  since  tlio  early  fifties  a  series  of  majxazlnos, 
provided  with  illustrations  and  other  costly  adjuncts, 
while  subsequently  the  only  representative  periodical 
of  the  kind,  in  cheaper  form,  found  it  ditticult  to 
subsist,  or  to  offer  ailequate  inducements  to  local 
talent.  Indeed,  the  three  brightest  lights  of  that 
j)eriod  took  flight  toward  its  close  to  seek  and  receive 
more  generous  recognition  abroad.  Facilitated  inter- 
course with  the  eastern  states  turned  attention  to 
the  more  attractive  publications  of  the  other  slope,  in 
the  same  manner  that  increased  state  railways  s[)read 
the  influence  of  the  San  Francisco  press.  The  con- 
sequent lack  of  fostering  mediums  tends  to  account 
for  the  uncovered  gaps  since  the  departure  of  the 
fanciful  lights  above  alluded  to.  In  other  directions 
strides  w^ere  made,  however,  which  have  attained  wide 
rei)utation  for  method,  research,  and  depth,  as  well 
as  for  magnitude  in  size  and  sco[)e. 

Aside  from  the  various  natural  and  social  influences 
which  have  been  pointed  out  as  affecting  letters  in 
California,  an  element  exists  in  the  hiixh  avera«'(>  in- 
telligenco  and  education  of  the  immigrants,  forming 
as  they  do  the  choice  manhood  from  their  respective 
countries.  The  distance,  cost,  and  hardship  connected 
with  migration  to  so  remote  a  point  served  to  reduce 
the  proportion  of  undesirable  admixture,  and  the 
general  opulence  has  favored  the  maintenance  of  that 
standard  by  permitting  a  liberal  education  of  the 
children.  The  recent  large  influx  is  likewise  of  a 
superior  class,  in  harmony  witli  the  new  era  of  horti- 
cultural development  so  promising  for  the  highest 
progress. 

The  east  has  with  slight  variati(ms  been  the  master, 
mentor,  and  light  for  the  west  ;  but  the  centre  of 
learning  and  domination  has  been  ever  moving  on- 
ward hi  the  path  of  the  illuminating  and  vivifying 
sun — shifted  by  the  advancing  Aryans  to  the  Euphra- 
tes, to  the  Nile,  to  Greece,  to  Rome,  and  thence 
north-westward.     The   late   strides    of  the    United 


Essays  and  Miscellany     42 


6o8 


EAIILY  CALIFOUNIA  LITKIIATUUE. 


States  also  in  literature  is  already  drawiiiiuf  the  intel- 
lectual centre  perceptibly  from  the  line  so  long  encir- 
cling it  in  Europe.  Here  oven  Chicago,  though  t;ir 
inland,  lias  beconio  a  publi.sliing  point  df  importance. 
With  the  expansion  of  population  the  Pacific  coast 
will  in  due  time  assert  lier  strength  and  the  claims 
which  she  put  forth  in  th.o  earlier  days  of  her  career. 
Her  sway  promises  to  assume  a  vast  range,  to  judge; 
from  tlie  centralizatiou  at  the  Golden  Oatc  of  tradi; 
throughout  the  Pacific,  with  lines  converging  from 
oriental  A.sia,  Australia,  Spanish  America,  and  tlio 
north-west.  Into  several  of  these  quarters  her  childriii 
liavc  penetrated  as  apostles  of  ])ractical  ])rogress,  and 
may  in  future  carry  also  the  seeds  of  a  higher  culture. 

The  geographic  advantages  which  establish  San 
Francisco  in  her  position  of  mctrop(tlis  for  the  coast, 
with  the  concentration  here  of  its  greatest  wealth  and 
patronage,  assure  also  for  this  vicinity  the  seat  df 
letters.  Literature  and  art  depend  too  much  on  tlie 
patronage  clustered  in  largo  trade  centres  to  sci)a- 
rato  from  it.  Thus  New  York  is  rapidly  overshadow- 
ing Boston.  Round  the  metropolis  of  California  arc 
grouped  within  convenient  range  all  that  is  most  in- 
spiring in  nature  along  the  entire  slope.  Additional 
interest  is  vested  therein  by  the  enfolding  glow  of 
tradition  from  a  fading  Indian  race,  from  a  fast  mcrj;- 
ing  Spanish  people,  and  from  Caucasian  pioneers, 
whose  advent  stands  recorded  in  mighty  cnterpri'^es 
and  transformations  in  orisjfinal  thought  and  methods. 

Such  are  the  sources,  precedents,  and  prosi)ect3 
for  the  now  race,  which  rises  to  inherit  the  attributes 
and  aspirations  of  its  varied  and  select  prototype,  and 
to  be  influenced  by  the  electric  atmosphere  and  en- 
vironment that  gave  rise  to  world-stirring  material 
and  intellectual  efforts. 

'The  linguistic  works  of  padres  Cuesta  and  Sitjar  were  printed  in  ISfil 
and  ISG'i,  two  score  years  and  more  after  they  were  written.  CiuMta'j 
vocabulary  and  grammar  occupy  a  volume  each.  The  Smitlisonian  puliln.i- 
tions  embrace  al-<o  two  catechisms  by  fathers  Scrra  and  (^ilii)t.  Soiiiii  triiiii- 
lations  by  Zalvadea,  and  Sarria's  iaipressivo  sermons,  in  autograph,  arc  on 
my  shelved. 


NOTES. 


G59 


'Tho  rnldrlnj;  of  tlio  liiof^rniiliioT  in  Rnliinsnn's  Call/'^rnfn  v.is  so  tnarkod 
aa  to  call  forth  condiiiiin.itiDii  even  from  native  CaliforiiiaiH.  Alvurniln,  Hist., 
M.S.,  ii.  '-'11.';  /  flirt  III  II'. 1  Xii.r.,  M.S.,  S  '.),  'I'lm  work  win  I'Voki'il  to  some  ox- 
tent  liy  Mofras'  Frciuli  hook  ami  [''nihrs  I/i.if.  (_''i!.,  l.S.'J'.t,  oonipilol  in  Mtxico 
liy  an  Kiiglislinian,  with  a  view  to  call  the  attention  of  inn  couutryuiun  to 
tlio  ailvaii;aL;i.s  of  the  territory. 

'An  ailvaiK'i!  'extra'  of  tlie  <\tl!fn-via  Sfiir  a|)])oare(l  on  Nnvetnher  1, 
1S40,  it.s  pru.ss  li.iviu;,'  lieen  in  operation  sini'e  Septenilier.  It  iieven  claifnccl 
th.it  a  part  of  the  typo  for  the  .S(tr  liatl  lieen  set  at  New  York  in  l)ecenilier, 
1S45. 

'(."olton  piildiiheil  at  New  York,  in  1S.")0,  T/irrn  Yrarn  in  Cnlif'inwi,  l'>iik 
aii'l  /*';'/,  and  other  hooks  trc.itinj^  of  liis  voyago  to  California  anil  .sliort 
Htay  there.  The  iitteiition  they  rouscil  wa^  ilne  not  alone  to  the  wnhject,  for 
tiie  treatment  M  inU.'roUini^  :i\iA  the  .-style  llowing,  altiioiigli  somewhat  iloriil; 
the  cNa^'^'eration  is  easily  di^lected. 

''Among  pocti  in  the  /'i'lmir  llguro  thenainoH  of  Pollock,  Cliaries  Ilavons, 
Linen,  .Mrs  Dowmr,  .J.  Svvett,  Soide,  and  ,1.  P.  Anthony.  In  IS04  a  woman 
named  Letter  (•oiil.roiiod  tiie  PiirJJir  Mnnt/iti/.  Anient,'  the  jioetic  contrilm- 
tors  \\ere  Spro.it,  John  Tiylor,  Tulles,  i>orr,  .1.  J.  Howman,  llidge,  Mr  and 
Mrs  Strong,  c  litori  in  ISii.!,  and  the  woim  n  Page,  ("larke,  W  illmrn,  Fader, 
and  MeDoU'.;;il.  Sul)sc(piently  lloiirished  the  Sttii  Fniiiri.in)  Pirf  ,riiil Miv/nziuf, 
in  tJnly,  IS,'),",  the  weekly  Onifiriii  in,  where  Hi'et  llarte  hegan  to  shine; 
(I 'I'Irii  (hitc.  in  I's.'U,  at  .Sairamento,  Iiy  Mrs  Mael  Unur.il;  En'rij  f>ii>/  Li/f,  in 
]S(i7,  l>y  .Mr*  Wright;  llownril  Quarln-bi,  in  A))ril,  \^iu,  hy  a  religio-literary 
Koeiety;  J.iii/ii.t'  and  trrii/lniini'.f  A/injiiziin',  in  1S()'.I,  of  Very  small  size; 
B'l-Mrynn,  in  1872,  liy  the  literary  .societies  of  the  univcr.;ity;  Brrblitj 
i^i/iirti-ilii  ol  lf<W),  from  a  .simihir  source,  lint  devoted  to  social  science; 
Oiikliiiiil  Miiiilldn  llffiiir,  1.S7.'{;  I 'iili/nniiiiii,  ill  June  1870,  a  name  afterward 
adopted  for  the  (h-'riniil,  and  nsoil  for  a  time 

••The  first  San  Francisco  directory  of  IS.'iO  contained  ahont  3,000  names, 
Many  ad  lres-ie<  refer  to  mere  tents  and  shed;;  a  staiF  of  poliei-'iieii  are  n;- 
Corded,  half  a  do/iMi  expre<s  ofliees,  four  plieei  of  eiitertainnien:,  including 
a  '  IJuU  Fighting  Arena,' .seven  places  of  wor.shii),  and  the  same  .lumher  of 
new.  piper  1.  S.UTaniciito  i^  iied  it*  smaller  <liructory  in  January  ISi")!,  and 
Stockton  and  othiT  jdaees  followed  in  due  time. 

'The  disiriiuina'ioii  shown  in  tlie  hiograpliies  of  The  AniniU  <;/*  Sun  Frtnt- 
rwrogavoii  o  to  the  chief  local  criticMsm.  The  numerous  illustrations  are 
generally  good  and  the  whole  a]ii)earance  is  fair,  lieyoiid  what  San  Francisco 
eoiild  at  tliat  time  produce;  the  book  wa.s  is.suiMl  at  New  York.  Of  tlio 
tlireo  autli'irs,  on  the  tiih.'  jiMge,  Frank  Soule.  John  M.  (lihon,  .M.  D.,  ami 
James  Ni  diet,  the  latter  ap]«'aM  to  have  pie[).ired  the  historic  part.  Ho 
was  liorn  at  (ila-gow,  ScoLl.ind,  when;  he  practi-ed  law,  wrote  a  novel,  and 
lent  his  money  in  specul.iti  )ii.  In  IS.'i'J  he  sought  California  and  was  hero 
engaged  on  the  ])re*s,  ranking  as  an  able  and  worthy  journalist.  He  per- 
ished in  IS,;,")  wi.li  tiie  Br-'lhi  r  ,1  iii-i/'nin  on  tlic  way  to  Victoria,  V.  I. 

"Rea  l!ir;-rooiiis  were  foundc  1  jirior  to  IS.'iOand  sm.all  collections  of  hooks 
existed  in  several  (piartors.  In  t'l.it  year  the  legislatui'o  pas.sed  a  hill  for  a 
state  I'.hrar;.  ('<i'.  J  mi:  Srii.,  I  s.'i ).  ji.  i:!10,  vU'..  In  KS."),j  its  law  dept  was 
a  feature,  C i!.  SMiifi:->,  !'<.")■"),  )ip.  1  17,  -C>~,  when  steps  were  taken  for  a  special 
law  lihrarv.  <^il.  J  mi:  Ai^s.,  IS.").'),  pj).  .S7.")-(),  IKVi.  The  S.in  Francisco  law 
li'irary  mvu  opened  to  the  piihlic  in  1870.  Cil.  S/.,tiif..^.  1S(>'.»  70,  2'A't  8.  The 
Mcrcanfle  I.ihr.irv  Assoc,  of  Sacramento  took  tlielead  in  ojiening  a  general 
])uhlic  lihrarv  in  l'"eliniary  I.S.")1.  A  course  of  lectures  wa.s  arranged  to  aid 
the  struggling  eoneeni.  'Sn:  Ti-iii.-i:-n)<f,  Fch.  It,  1S")1.  Tlu!  well  known 
mercantile  libra'"}'  of  San  Francisco,  although  organized  only  in  .Ian.  24, 
]8,")H,  datci  properly  from  18.")1,  when  the  disbanding  committee  of  vigilance 
contributed  a  con.sider.able  collection  of  books  tor  iiuidic  use.  Blnxoine, 
Coin.  Vii.,  MS.,  10.  gaveTiO'i  vo1m?iio<.  This  wa<tlie  niulens  for  that  library. 
.9.  F.  Alia,  Dec.  24,  IS.-.'i.  (.'oii.'eniiiig  legt  lative  aid.  seeCei.  Jour.  Sni.,  IS.'i;}, 
C49.     The  first  aunuoil  rcpurl  may  be  consulted  in  1854.  Hunt's  Maj.,  xxxiii. 


H 


H 


coo 


EAIIIA   rALFlOIlN'IA  LITr-niATUI'.K. 


ni7-22;  Mfre.  Lih.  AitAnr.  Hrpori^;  .<?.  F.  Alt>i,  Jan.  II,  ISM,  ^^ar.  20,  1855 
A  nit't  ccdurert  providi'd  fiiiuls  for  llio  lino  iicw  l>uil(liii><  iTfi'tcil  tor  u  iii 
\S,{),  Cil,  l.iliiiiiii  ■i  Si-iii]i^,  \K  ;<  ct  s('(|.  li.itrr  it  tlfililioil,  and  tlii'  liHi.'ri'i->c 
jiliit-  WIS  t.ikcMi  iiy  tlif  Mix'liaiiifH'  Institiiti;  LiUriiry,  oryaiii/.rd  in  is.'.V 
'riKM)dd  Fl'IIowh"  l^iUrary,  fnrniL'd  in  1>S.")4,  ranks  tliird.  'I'lio  Vrcv  J.iliriu\, 
lie  iii.mgnril  stops  fur  wliicli  wcro  licj^nn  in  I.S77,  is  IiumcviT  ftiit  (iiiiitnii, 
ping  ti>tnii  ail  iindur  tiiu  ^unurons  aiil  cxtiMidtMl  from  puliiio  fiimls  ami  uoiilii- 
liiUioiis,  A  nninliur  of  minor  collti'tions  prrtain  to  dill'iiviit  Hucictlci, 
as  Young  Mi'ii's  Ciirist.  Assoc,  ( 'al.  riom-ers,  Aciduniy  of  Sciuniv, 
t!i('  Military  Lilirary.  S.  F.  Vorcin,  tlui  Kri-ii'li,  lixistiiig  sinco  IS.JIt,  Aitu, 
Jan.  5,  ISoU;  tlio  Spanish,  of  rcrcnt  yoar.s. 


In  addition  to  a  review  of  works  liy  Americans,  it  may  Iw  of  intcrost  to 
>,d.'iiii-n  at  tlio  early  books  and  nianiiseript^  ou  Ainoriea,  paiLly  froiii  i  u;  la- 
llueiico  exercised  liy  them  ovtjr  it.  A.s  tine  of  the  turning  points  for  proji'.'cv,, 
III  giving  a  signal  impulse  to  voyages  and  enterprise,  to  eoii'iuest  U!id  Mettli!- 
iiUMit,  America  imparted  aUo  zest  and  direction  to  wriling,  especially  on  lli.j 
aciiiiiveinoiits  niunlioned.  The  productions  .speedily  hccamo  iimiieroiM  aa  I 
striking  eiioiigli  to  awaken  a  thirst  for  wider  reading  and  for  eUlioratioiH  i  i 
otiier  liranclie.s  of  literature,  even  in  epic  form,  l>y  virtue  of  einulatioa  an  1 
n^sponsc  to  demand.  Historian;*  and  liiograpliers  were  stimulated  to  plim 
tieforo  the  reader  the  iiiciilents  ami  heroes  of  the  New  World.  Ncieiiiiiii: 
men  were  stirred  by  the  novelties  hero  unfolded.  I'octs  were  inspired  I  y 
scenes  and  feats  tif  arms.  I'hilosophcrs  an<l  theologians  found  food  f.ir 
thought  and  speculation  in  the  revelation  under  strange  conditions  of  a  mw 
race  whoso  hcnighted  intellect  invited  friars  and  priests  to  mission  work, 
and  to  Jidvoeacy  of  their  caiiso  against  rapacity  and  oppression.  The  ciuiivli 
<lclighted  in  so  vast  an  addition  to  ita  fold,  as  an  otlset  for  the  inroads  of 
tlie  Alahominedans  and  protestants. 

>So  aluorliing  was  the  interest  in  tlio  New  World  that  few  of  the  liooiii 
pulilishcd  during  the  sixteentii  century  failed  to  rel'cr  to  it  in  some  dignc. 
Tiio  number  was  not  large,  for  the  days  had  not  yet  arrived  of  a  pre-.-,, 
wiiich,  altiiougii  encroaching  so  much  on  all  branches  of  literature  liy  its 
eclectic  collection,  has  intensilied  llio  taste  for  reading  and  increased  tliu 
monthly  publication  of  books  by  t''e  thousand. 

Publications  on  America,  bcgi  ing  so  soon  after  the  discovery  of  print- 
ing, serve  to  illustrate  the  pri  gress  of  the  inanufaeturing  art,  fnim 
block  anil  black-lett(!r  to  script  ami  modern  typo;  from  plaijuette  and  paivli- 
ment-Iiound  books,  and  imnderoiu  folios  in  wdoden  covers  with  da-ji  ,  in 
elegant  cloth,  paper,  and  varied  bindings  of  to-day.  It  is  a  change  in  li.ir- 
mony  with  tlie  tlevelopment  from  simplicity  ami  .striving  for  tlioruuginn--, 
to  superficial  gloss  and  smattering;  the  latter  enforced  indeed  by  the  cxiimi- 
sion  in  numlter  and  range  of  branches  to  be  studied,  and  the  other  by  t'»^ 
growing  artiliciality  of  intercourse. 

Only  four  original  works  on  America  are  known  to  liavc  been  printcil  in 
the  liftoentli  century,  namely,  two  letters  of  Columbus,  dated  14!>;{,  one  nt' 
wiiioh  underwent  a  number  of  translations  and  rei)riiit.s;  a  letter  to  .Syllacii, 
one  of  Columbus'  companions,  printed  about  1494;  and  a  jiapal  bull  of  1 1'.'^!. 
Tliey  are  all  in  the  form  of  jyliti/iiMfin,  or  small  thin  pamphlets  without  covcis 
printed  in  black  letter.  'I  he  originals  are  exceedingly  rare  and  of  great 
value  aa  specimens  of  early  printing. 

In  150:5  some  pa]>al  bulls  relating  to  America  were  published;  in  b'O."  a 
letter  of  Columbus  describing  his  fourth  voyage  to  the  tifrnifiniie.  In  tnn- 
oral  the  few  printed  narratives  of  his  voyages  had  a  very  limited  cireiil  itinii. 
Between  loOi- 8  appeared  over  a  score  of  different  editions  of  Americo  \'c~|iui> 
ci's  MhikIiih  Norn--<,  describing  his  third  and  fourth  voyages.  The  iiL'i"in 
stumbled  upon  by  Colnmbus  were  supposed  to  be  part  of  .lanan  and  la'ii.i, 
but  here  was  evidently  another  country,  sufficiently  large  ana  im])ortant  to 
be  called  the  New  World.  This  nmsed  greater  interest  in  the  di^civciv, 
and  aatiisted  to  procure  a  wider  circulatiuu  fur  Vespucci's  rcpurtij  tiiau  i><r 


NOTKS. 


661 


thnae  of  tlio  crcat  .idmiral,  tn^nthnr  with  tho  ftppliration  of  his  namo  ti>  tim 
ilisi'oviTy.  A  I'lilliMtiiPii  lit'  Ills  Idur  vnyiims  jiuimmiicI  in  l."i()7  itinl  hiiIi.m;- 
(jiifiitly.      Ill  lolO  (iliilit-Mi  priiituil  III!  aiHuiiiiit  (it  ;i  ^iiijivvroi'k  liy  ii  vnyagiT  to 

tllU    liltillllll.S. 

In  l"ill  tlio  lirst  liccailc  of  i'ctcr  Martyr  iiinn'ared  in  two  oiiitiuiH. 
'riinje  (lecaiUi  wi'rc  isNiuil  ill  l.'iKl.  'I'lif  connilftc  eight  dicaihis  wti"  lii',t 
|iiilih.slu:il  ill  I.').'!!).  'rr;iii>latiiilis  ami  rt']il'iiits  nt  (lart.s  nr  total  wtit!  fri'i|iii'iit. 
Martyr's  Ojjifw  Kfii.i/iliiiiiin,  of  over  M)(>  li'ttur.-i,  w  a.i  liist  iniiitfil  in  ITiliO, 
Tlii'M^  two  Works  were  tiu;  fhiuf  hoiirfo  for  uouipili'i's  (luring  the  ciiitiiiy. 

Tho  I'toli'iiiy  '/m)//v(;i///'i(  ipf  ir)i;t  |iri:scntiil  :;()  IKW  iiiaip^.  Miui-o's  .V^/i.k 
<lr  <;,if/rfili'i  tii  l.'ilK  yavi;  [lorsonal  oUstrv  alioin  on  Aiiici  iia.  'I'l.i^  Ithn  rni-ht 
of  (irijalva'i  vnyagu  to  Yucatan  lnar.s  ilatu  l,V_'(),  in  t\\o  versions,  liy  |)ia/, 
iiml  liy  an  anonyinou.s  writer.  In  l.'C'J  lliu  famous  l!i  lii<-U>iii>t  iii  ( 'ortes  he- 
gan  to  apiiear;  a  letter  in  \  erse  t(;  stir  hy  romantic  iiKideiits  a  fre.di  erxite- 
iiieiit  in  regard  to  the  New  Woi'ld.  The  ueliieveinent.s  of  J'i/airo,  as  iiariatecl 
ill  his  letters  after  l.'iIi.S,  added  to  the  llaiiiu.  A  letter  ill  ver.-,e  hy  tin!  ini- 
faiiKiiis  I'ediaria.s  l)avila  was  [)i  inted  in  I.")!!.''*  coiieerning events  on  tin;  I'anaiiia 
istiiinns.  Oviedo'.s  Ih  la  Xn/iirnl  //!■■</  iri'i  (/<■  lii.i  linliii'*  liiars  iii  ^u'lit  Toleilo, 
l.'i'JI).  The  lirst  part  of  his  lli<l  iri<i(l<ui ml tlv  lii'<  lii'l'iati  dn\  xuti  t  i  ;';e  light 
till  l.");).").  The  only  eoinldete  edition  thereof  eame  out  only  in  i  •.M  .">  in 
four  folio  voliiines.  One  of  the  two  jiajial  hiilU  of  l."):!()  urgeil  on  (  liarles  \ . 
tin;  eoiivorsioii  of  the  Jndiain  'hy  foree  and  arms  if  li  'liiul,  in  order 
that  their  souls  may  partaki' of  the  iieavenly  kinudoiii.'  <'iie  of  tin;  earli- 
est specimens  of  American  typography  was  a  iilai|Uetto  oi  loll  d  >eri'  )iig 
tlie  terrihie  enrtlnjiiako  in  ( Juatemal.i.  Aiioiit  tiiis  lime  letters  itgaii  to 
piiiir  ill  f'  i!,i  'lie  I'lissioiiarii'S  tieating  of  all  the  varied  MiKjcet-.  ol  interest 
ill  the  colonies,  which  found  ready  ciiciilaUnu  in  special  and  i  ,  llccicd  form. 
These  works  iiilluciiccd  not  alone  local  investigations  ami  hiii]iIi  iiecouiits, 
I'll!  they  started  ill  Miirope  also  a  deairo  for  iunuiry  ami  txploriiioii  in 
similar  lields  hitherto  neglected. 

•Vfti^'  l.'ioO  hooks  on  the  Pacifie  states  tirritories  increased  rapidly. 
Among  the  most  prominent  were  l..as  Casas'  treatises  on  the  J)i.</riii-/lnii  ,./ 
till-  liiit'ic'i,  that  is,  the  maltreatment  of  the  natives  of  lo.VJ.  His  ciiief  works, 
X\\c  IHstni-hi  i/i-  //((//'a.v,  existed  until  recently  only  ill  m.iiiuscii]it  copies;  of 
which  I  useil  one  The  nature  of  his  advocacy  and  the  .severity  of  liis 
charges  hroiight  forth  numerous  replies,  as  .Sepiilveda's  A}xili>'iiii,  and  ga\e 
rise  to  speculation  on  the  rights  of  ahorigines,  and  on  the  value  of  Amerii  a 
to  the  ehui'cii,  and  its  inlliicnco  on  European  nations. 

GiMiiara's  Hi<ti>ii'i  ilc  Mi.riro  and  HlMniiii  (Icnrinl  ilr  Ins  JihUhs  vvrc  printed 
ill  several  (editions  hctwceii  I ."i.")'-'  i,  followed  in  time  liy  a  hcoie  more.  Heii- 
zoiii's  lli-ttiiriit  (hi  Mmilo  A'«"/'"  of  l.'iCi.j  ohtaiin'd  likew  ise  .sever. il  rcjirints 
and  translations,  and  .served  to  atlirin  the  iinfavoralile  idea  of  Spanish  grecil 
and  cnudty.  Iloetor  Monardes'  lliMoritt  Miihrhnil  of  the  .same  date  va.s 
completed  in  1574.  C'olunihu.s'  liiography  liy  his  son  reached  -several  editions 
alter  \'~,\,  under  the  iiiere;ising  demand  for  liiograjihy,  cmluaciiig  heroes 
like  Cortes  and  I'ix.arrn.  In  l.")S7  J'.dacios' ///si'/v/ciV'./;  A""/''/''!  ,ip[M  aieil  to 
guide  navigators  in  West  India  M'aters,  and  Ortelius'  geo<;ra]ihical  work. 
Two  years  later  Aeosta's  Dr  Xntura  Knv'i  (>Hili,  followed  in  l.'i'.H)  hy  his 
JfMoriii  i/r  Icis  fiiiliit.i,  hiith  of  which  received  wide  circulation  in  dillcnnt 
forms  and  languages,  and  tended  to  ]iromote  a  jihilisojiliie  impiiry  into 
American  resources  and  allairs.  The  aiipfiaranci;  in  l-'ilKiof  I'adiUa's  history 
of  the  provincia  of  Santiago  in  Mcxii'o  was  the  signal  for  the  periodic  ;  uhli- 
cation  of  the  priestly  chronicles  which  constitute  the  most  imiiortaiit  histori- 
cal writings  durina  the  following  two  centuriiM. 

Of  voyage  collections,  so  numerous  in  later  times,  tlve  njijicared  in  the 
sixteenth  century,  licginning  with  the  f/ihrclto  ih'  tiittit  l(iXnr/;/iifiiiiii  of  l.'Oi 
hy  N'ciccllese,  now  disaii)iearcil;  the  Pdv.u  Nini.i'iiciitc  n frmt'i/i  hy  Moiitla- 
haddo,  I.")()7;  the  A'^(i*''w  ^>/7</.-i  hy  Huttich,  jirefaee  .  hy  Oryra'iis,  l.").S"2,  which 
is  founded  on  the  preceding.  i?oth  recidved  several  reprints  ai'il  translation. 
-Ml  throe  were  fragmentary  in  their  iuformatiou  as  compared  \  'Mi  llaniusio's 


iL'l 


GC2 


EARLY   CALIFORNIA   LITERATURE. 


ijitt'r'.tli 


(t    V 


\',m'.\,  ami  I. ">.■)!(,  n 


iu  tliri'L'  liulky  folio  voliuiiu-i,  wliiili  apiioircd  in   I."."0, 


,:tlMi\ 


iclato.i  wholly 
Oviiilo,  ( '(irLc- 


illKl   01    Slll)M'i|lH'll.,    fllltlollS. 


TIk!   hist   V 


Ollllllf 


to  tlu;  Nt^w  \Voilil,  aiiil  toulaiiii  siiiiiiiiariu-i  Irom  IVler 


.1  oil 


lur  coiujiioroi'.s  ami  l'.\|uoi-ui' 


iXMl  to    I,) 


irlsr, 

II'   ^(  L 


1- 


ailiiiiralily  iiriutfil  ia  closu  ohl  style   Mack-k'iti/r,  \\illi  maps  and  illii.stia- 
tiuiis,  ami  loiiiis  oiu;  of  tin.'  most  vahialilcof  (■(plloctioii.s.      At  tlio  liiiii  of  thu 


itiiry,  ill  I.V.m   ItiOO,  aiiptarcil  tlir  f:i 


Kngli 


1  ooiripLatioii  of  llakhiyt, 


ill  ihruu  voliiiiiu.s,  lliu  hist  dovott'd  to  Aiiii'i'ica.  It  adds  to  ^flections  fiom 
Uaiiiiisio  a  luiiulii'r  of  later  explorations  and  voyages,  uotaldy  by  Draku 
and  ('aiidi>li.  and  dated  as  late  as  lo'.)7. 

Tlieso  coUecLion.s  of  voyages  are  a  new  foiin  of  the  eyelopedie  works 


c'osnio^'rapliy 


iiiii 


1  universal  liisto 


Several  of  th' 


had  h. 


■en  \\  lit  ten 


1. 


ilore  tlie  invention  of  printing,  had  lieeu  rewritten  and  fiuiiished  \\[{\\ 
notes  and  additions  at  fiecpieiit  intervals  liy  ditleieiit  editors,  and  tiie  .--aine 
eustoiii  was  eontiniie  1  after  tiie  printing-press  had  superseded  the  pen  in  the 
iiiiill  iiilieation  of  copies. 

The  U'.KS  edition  of  I'oniponiiis  Mela's  ])i  Orl.i.i  Situ  is  said  to  have  lu  t  n 
the  lirst  of  this  elass  to  iindude  the  iS'c'W  ^\'orld.  The  J'.iii  ids  of  >-alielliiii>, 
and  the  !)<■   iliroliUihus    of  Albertini    follow   in    \^,M  .">.     The  Sii].]ilriii(ii/iini 

the  New  World  in    lotW,  and  li  n 


C/i 


'iriiiiii'iintiii  o 


f  li^ 


ergoiiias  lugaii  to  me 


itioiis  followed  heforo  IGOU.      My  copy  of   l,">K!has  only  a  short  paraL'i 


thai 


1  halt  a 
d 


insiilis  m  mdui  extra  orhen  iiiiper  inueiiti 


lage,   on  America, 
1,1 


1. 


■V" 


\k 


([uariiior  p  n.axiiuis 


Mallei's  eominentaries  wire  often  r<pnlilislied  hitween  ITOii  and  If)  14. 
The  Cii.siiini/niji/iiiv.  liilnulitcfio  of  Hylaeoinylus,  or  Wahl-See-Miiller,  of  wliuli 
fonr  editions  appeared  in  l.")(>7,  contains  the  lirst  printed  account  of  the  lii  4 
and  fourth  \oyages  of  Vespucci,  and  the  fir.st  proposal  to  name  the  New- 
World  Amerieu. 

Pt(demy's  '  Jeograjihy  (if  l.'iOS  had  the  first  engraved  map  in  which  any 
part  of  America  was  shown.  'J'he  name  America  was  first  u-ed,  in  accord- 
nice  with  the  suggestion  of  lIy!:;coiiiyhis,  in  the  (liiihiin  Muiitli,  priiiti 


at 


Sfrashourg  in    iriO'.t. 


Til 


ti  nil 


0   name    \\  as    lir.st  used  on  a  niiip  in  (he  h 


A  fSolinus-t'amers  of   lulIO,  while  the  lirst  protest  against  the  u>e  of 


that  name  is  hclicveil  to  have  heeil  iu  Schoner's  ( ipnsriiiiiui  of   \')'.\\\. 


T 


ic    cosmogra[iliical   writings 


>f    Ap 


K 


ami  ol 


Minister  from  loll,  are  the  rciiKiining  voiks  of  this  class,  which  1  find 
resciilcd  liy  most  frciiuent  editions  ciii  my  shelves. 


"1' 


Of  the   h 


Nch 

l.")l-J,    l)r  y^itum.   A 


list  of    similar   vnrks   may  lie   noted  tun  Cosniograpliy  of 


nsis,  lilts,  I^udd's   i*>;>' 


<)ri,i.<,  ITiOT,  thi^  ('// 


iniiiiciiii  o 


/'////rWM,,/, 


F 


il-nrUIII 

oritz'  a 


l.y    Allicrtus    Magnus,  \'^\\,   Reiscli 


f  El 
M 


'/i-'iji/i/'i 


1." 


r. 


'"';/' 


inlii 


line's  /.vo/c    ll,l  MlllllIlK    I.VJS, 


WiWiiirli,  l,")l!;t,  the  l.j'ihiiiiv  of  N'adiaiuis,  \W.\\,  StiiiilKOM'l.s  ('/// 


iririini'i,    I. !.).>, 


-Rose 


Sph, 


\y.\-,  Di 


is'  Celestial  Orhs.  I.")!!!,  tiie  work  of  Fris 


l)c  Silii  l/rl'if  and 
111  Astronomy,  lol  I,  of 
(ilireanuM  on  (ieography.  irill,  lloiitcr's  Rudiments  of  Cosmograpliy,  l.'illi 
Many  others  were  imlilishcd  during  tlie  last  half  of  the  ecntiiry.     The  lii-t 
printed  mention  (>f  America  in  tin;   Iviglish   1,'iiiguage   is  supposed  to   he   in 
Rraiit's  S/iii}>)if  if  /•'i.i/(.s-  of   l.'iOO.      '1  he  New  ^\■o|■ld  is  also  mciitioiicd  m  t' 
A'l  /'■  /,(/'  r'li 
ahout  l.V_'u'. 


'  /r  of  l.")ll    and  lo'-'O,  and   iu  a  treatise  on   the  A'< 


lis    ri 


Ahout  one  hundred  ailditional  hooks,  in  nmre  than  one  hundred  and  tifiy 


idilions.  issued   in   l^urojie   during  the   sixteenth    eentiiry,  eoiitain   moi 


less  extended  notices  of  the   Nc«  •^^'orhl,  drawn   from 


'I'lie  list  liegins  with  a  collection  of  treatises  and  letter.s  of  11 


inal  or  coinp 


•d 


Canon  Ortiz;  two  orations  hy  (^aivajal  ami  .Mmeidr,  of  lll);i.  Indeed,  tlun) 
is  hardly  any  class  of  puhlieaticis  during  tlu;  period  not  re])resented  in  tho 
list  of  those  containing  menti(.i.  of  .Amcriei.     The  newly  found  land,  v  ;ih 


ill  its  liclongings,   was  a   marv 


A, 


L'11-nigl 


I  a   miraele, 


to  tl 


le  mhai'i- 


tants  of  Europe.     .Such  in.';ition  was  often  attached  to  orations  of 
and  to  serniousj  to  suieatili^;  treatises,  as  by  Lilio  iu  M'Jli;  to  dramas, 


;iiiy 


la--* 


NOTES. 


663 


isrliius, 

iriiiinta 

'l.VJS, 

f  7ir"iii''ii. 

//v    illi.l 
."ill,  ol 

,'iH). 
(■  lir.-fc 

I.'    lu 
111    tl..! 

liny 
iiii|iilt'il 

r.i:!,  i>y 

1,  llll'lO 

in  tl;i! 
,1,  wall 
inli.'il'i- 
V  cla-^s 
■as  by 


Stamlcr  in  ir)OS;  to  Soncca's  tragoilios  in  I.jIO;  to  p.uu'uyrios,  an  liy  Sohra- 


ill  I'll  1 :  to  p- 


as  liv  Catiiiieo  in  l.")ll;  (Hiistiiiiaiii's  oditioii  nt  tli 


i's.ilti'r  ill  ir)l('>;  to  a  roinaiK'c  l)y  Oviodo  in   lol'.l;  to  tiiu  travels  ot   Mario 
I'oio  in  l.")VlS;  to  woriis  (in  syiiiiillitie  ailiiuMitu  ill  ITiIil  t-t  soij. ;  to  tiio  Iftturs 


if  TritlKMiuH  ill   l."il>li;  tl 


til 


e  aiiii.iU  ot  variolic 


V 


urniH'aii  <.'oiiiitru'. 


leruiit  aiithni-s;  to  truatisus  on  naviiiatioii  am 


"y 


iif- 


iinliii'  ilirci'tioii-t  ill  l.'il4ot 


si'i].;  anil  to  ni(liiiu;iitary  treatises  on  eosniogi'a[ihy  ami  other  liraueliea  of 
seioneo  ami  art. 

|)uring  tlie  latter  half  of  the  sixteciitli  eentiiry  papal  liiill-,  laws,  onler.s. 


iml    instnielions  iiiti 


Iti 


Of 


coiiiliih'i 


il    l.'i 


ws 


the  \il'  (•  ?•■<■  /,( 


i/'.i  (>1 


f 


lot:!  form  llie  tirst  of  the  elas.s  relatiiis,'  to  Ameriea,  .■illhoiii;h  the  (tnli  w>iii,i.i 


for  tlu)  CiiMi  ill'  (.'oiifrii/.i 


if    lolT  were  I 


ir^t  ]irii[i>.  r  e 


illeeti 


Vic 


Meii(lo/,a's  <>riliiiincii--<  //  ( 'njiilnri  in  ih:  Li  i/r.'i,  of  lois,  was  the  lir-.t  honk  of  la 


pi'in 


Leil 


was  issued  at    Mexi 


"« 


:i'is  '  'iihili.^  extern 


Th 
tory  1 


ml 


lit  l.)t>,  was  uie  ur-.t  lionic  <ii  liiwa 

l.s  tile  eolieetion  to  l.'ii).!,  when  it 

if    J'liii'inas,     N'n.lo,    .\L;iiilar, 

iijiilili-inii  lit;  fiii/ri.-i  (if   lli^l. 
jveiiteeiith  eeiitlliy  opens  a|i|ini|iriateiy  witii  the  tir>t  j,'eaeral  his- 


J' 


Pllielo,  aiiil  Cilnlova,  preee(le(l  the  t: 


le    eoni]iiIations 


llllOUS 


lUDIishei 


I  on  Ameriea,  the  lli<ttriii  <l 


ili/ii  /•<.■>' /(r.7/ii.-(  i/i:  I  i.i  a  t.^l'  ILiniti 


n  l<''<  /"I i<  11  tl  rni  jiriiii'  ili'l  M'lr  Omiiiit,  hy  Antonio  du  llerrera,  elironielor 
(if  the  liing  of  Spain,  issued  in  lliOI-lo,  and  .siihseipieiitly  in  four  (piarto 
volnnies,  and  forming  the  tirst  general  history  piiMished  on  AiiiiuMea. 

'ronpieni  ida  s  Miii'irr/iin  lir/iiiin  a\>\ti.'iii\'i[  in  ltli;{  in  tliree  large  volumes. 
It  is  a  rielier  .store  house  of  iiUormation  on  the  indigonou.s  trihes  oi"  .\iiii!rioa 
tliaii  had  lieforo  lieen  printed,  together  with  the  history  and  dcseriptiou  of 
the  eonntry. 


T 


lomas  (>ai. 


rill  !>  II  nil' !i  of  till'  d'r.s/  Iiiilii's,  the  first  I'^iiglis 


lUIlt  of 


W(Mterii  atl'airi,  was  lirst  )iriiit('d  in  lli4S.  .Mthoiigli  somewhat  e.xaggeratcd 
ill  tone,  and  severely  eritieised  hy  eatiiolie  writers,  I  regard  (lago  a:i  tlie  best 
writer  on  Ameriea  ii))  to  his  time,  and  for  a  hniidied  years  later. 

lioturini  gav(!,  in  IVKi,  suggestions  coiueruiiig  sourees  and  metiiod  for  a 


new  history  of  .Vmeriea  in  his  A/i 


It 


may  have  |irov('d  of  valiu 


to  Ml 


in  pre[i  iriii.;  the  lf!<tiriii  ilil  Xm  r)  Miiiiil  i,  which  stoli|ied  with   the  lir^t  Vnl- 


iim  'in  1 1 


\l'Xi. 


oliert>on's  attr.ieiive  Jli-'furi/  nf  Ami  ririi  eame  out  in 


!Mi. 


Among  llot.ihle  sectional   histories    from   wiiieh   the  general    ehroiiieler.s 


were   sup|i.ised   to  eiiU  mos 


st  of   their  information, 


T 


lid   mention  a  r.ire 


(1   forgotten   little 
lagri's  Ui<t  iri I  dr  lu  \i 
in  epic  form,  wliioli  is  exeeediiigly  valuahle  as  tiie  foundation  of  the  history 


ik,   almost  niikiiown   to   iiistoiiins,   (laspar  de    Vil- 

r  I  Mi.nri),  ili  I  ( 'iipitua  d^i.^jnr  ,/,•    17// (,//•■/,  uiri   I'J/O, 


if  N, 

r 

li'r..'ii, 


M( 


I  th< 

rioi 


X'i/i''i'i.-i  !H<t  iri'ili ■ 
Irihit.is  II'kI  irii  iinnriil  ilr  /.m  i     ninisfn.-i  ilil  ninr-i  /'■  i/ii'i  ili  (,' 


Isthmus  and  ad  joining   reiximi   relate  Ti 


./,( 


and  a  large  iiumUer  of  trii'ts  n^speeting  the  famous  Seot's  colony  at  l)ariei 
which  liciian  to  a\)pe.ir  in  Ili'.IK. 


Staehlin'.s 


.\'i,iirirli/-  II,  177ti 

He, 


malualile  for  the  lii.story  of  Alaska. 
In  \C>',V2  was  |ire-ented  the  so-ealleil  true  ver-ion  of  tiie  history  of  t'ortes' 
con(|nest  in  the  lli<tini  Vi  nl'i'lini  oi  lieriial  l»ia/.  Kifty  years  later  Solii 
issued  his  less  reliahle  aeeonnt  in  tiie  //i.i/uriii  i/c  In  I'miiiw^l'i,  wiiich,  aeeepted 


(lei  of  ele^.'l 


passed  through  more  editii 


d  translations  iliai 


perhain  any  other   lli<paiio-.\merieaii   standard  work.      .\  sci|iiel    to  it  wa.s 


[iiihlisiied  in  174'{  hy  Sala/.ar  y  Olarte,  in  the  most  exti 


of  intlateil  (hin- 


'I'iie  defects  of  these  writers  were   renie( 


lied 


fl 


avigero  s  SI  irin 


Ailtli'n  ilrl  .]['.'isli'ii,  IT!^))  '  in  4  volumes,  which  eovers  the  eoiiipie.st  a-;  Well  as 
ahnriginal  annals  and  customs,  and  treats  tli(J  siilijeel  with  admiralilo  com- 
iiion  sense. 


To  t! 


s  class  p(>rtaiii  ilu^  inissinnary  cliron 


to  which    till!  authors   re-])eetively 


,•1. 


Av<  ,,f  th 
W'ritti 


10  iireviiUTs  or  onler.s 


I 

,itli  a  iiai\i!  !'( li 


■al  and  faitli,  facts  siili'i  r  soiiiewli.it.  yet  with  experience  the  sifting  heeoincii 


■i<y. 


A  1 


irire  nnmoer  have  reac 


hed 


sheh 


es  in  the  miinu^cript  loriii  Ix 


voiid  which  they  failed   to   ])a-^s.      Kirst   on   the   li-t   stands   1  i.ivila  I'.iddla'.s 
llidiifia  (/(■  Saiitiiiijo  ile  J/i.'.voi,  of  l.V.)0,  rovisud  in  l&2o;  litinciiais  Hi.ii<jriu  de 


664 


EARLY  CALIFORNIA  LITERATURE. 


S.  VinrrMf  fifi  Chi/npn  y  OuntcmnJa  is  a  very  rare  and  valuable  record,  printed 
in  1(5 IS).  I'viciitu  .s  wiirk  on  tlio  order  of  >San  Aiigii.stin  in  Micluiaoiui,  and 
(irijalva's  Vrniiifa  lie  ii  nviifii  de  A'.  P.  S.  Aiitjusliu  ilc  la  nn'ra  E-:}uuiii,  liuai 
date  l(Jl!4.  A  Latin  clironicdu  of  the  Franciscan  order  was  puiilisliud  m 
Europe  in  lG'_'o.  Jji/ana's  Yucatan  appeared  iu  KiHi,  and  in  Hili.")  and  lOlJJ 
cauic  two  lirnniele!!  of  the  /'ruriiiclit  i/c  S.  Pcliii  1/  S.  I'dl/ln  in  .Micluiacan, 
hiitii  surpassed  iiy  Beaumont's  ('nmirit  ilc  MwIuhioui,  wiiich  lias  only  iuc(  nlly 
s<eu  the  press,  after  I  liad  secured  a  manuscript  copy.  Tlic  Jlislirid  i/c  log 
Tri/i>ii})/ii).i,  iiy  Ril)as,  Kilo,  is  une  of  tlie  I'arest  of  the  series,  aud  rilales 
chictly  to  the  .lesuit  missions  in  nortliwcst  Mexico.  Au<li'es  clc  <  iuadahipc's 
I'roiHKcia  di'  I'M  Aii;/i-ks  ilates  from  Ititi'J.  liurijna's  I'ulcM.ro  J/iilnrinl  and 
(''''>:/>' 'jii'n  JJifscrijiriDii,  of  1G74,  are  very  rare,  aud  tlio  standard  authoriticj, 
especially  on  tiie  early  liistory  of  Oajaca. 

To  the  eighteeutli  century  belong  tiie  missionary  chronicles  of  Vas(picz 
on  ( Jiiatemala,  1714;  Arlcgui,  Vliniii'cd  ilc  Zacntccn.i,  \~t'M\  Espinosa's  ( '/(rod/rif 
Ap-^dolirii  If  Siriipliint  ilc.  loilo.f  log  ivlii/ios  i/r  /'riijiiv/itiii/d  Filv,  174(1,  cdutinucd 
in  Arricivitas  Vmiiiat  dc  (Jncn/'irn,  IV'.l'i;  N'enegas'  Natifia  di-.  In  Cdli/orniii,  .'J 
vols,  17")7;  tile  yl;(()sCoftv(  yly^o/c.s  of  the  ciinii>auy  of  Jesus,  17(58;  accounts  hy 
Haegeit  and  others  on  Lower  California  missions;  I'alou's  Jicltirion,  or  life  of 
Juiinicro  Scrra.  founder  of  tlie  missions  of  Upper  California. 

I)i,i/.  dc!  la  < 'alles  Mi'iimr/id  y  Nn/ici'i.-t,  1040,  is  a  statistical  handbook  on 
New  World  affairs.  The  Ejiitn/iic  Siiui'irio,  Kioit,  rclatt's  to  the  Mexican  iti- 
quisition.  Oil  (ion/ales  Davila's  'J'cilro  Lrlisi^uUri,  I04!l,  narrates  the  li\es 
(if  early  church  dignitaries,  and  constitutes  a  valualde  history  of  early 
church  ati'airs  in  America.  In  1007  appeared  (iaroia's  famous  Orijiii  dn  Ion 
//((//'/.-.'  (/('  (I  Xfitn  Afiiiid  I,  in  which  he  aims  to  present  all  the  theories  enter- 
t^iiued  on  tlie  origin  of  t!ie  Jiidians.  The  siime  (piestion  was  weighed  dur- 
ing the  century  by  (trotius,  De  Laet,  Horn,  Spi/elius,  Wagner,  aud  in  the 
following  century  notalily  by  l>e  I'anco.  It  is  fully  reviewed  iu  my  A'f^/w 
/i''"'».«,  V.  Solorzano  Pereiia's  great  juridical  work  /)r  IndhirDin  Jrrr,  waspuh- 
lidu'd  iu  10;i!).  Moutemaya  ilo  Cueuea  treated  on  repartimientos  in  lii< 
7>/.vv/'.s-o  PiiHUcn-lii-itnrirn-jiiridii'i.  1 0.'iiS. 

The  swelling  bulk  of  the  .American  sections  iu  the  world-descriptiou.s  of 
the  old  eosmogra])hical  works  so  nuiuenuis  during  the  past  century,  and  still 
]>ublislied  to  s(un(^  extent,  suggested  a  series  of  compiled  works  devoted 
purely  to  the  New  World.  Tliey  ariMimtint  old  vfdumes,  generally  in  black- 
lelter  and  tjuite  l>ulky,  with  maps  and  numerous  wood  cuts,  and  engravings 
of  monsters  and  abnormities.  Aiuoul;  them  may  be  iianieil  l",ns'  history  of 
the  \\'est  Indies,  the  Wr.-^t  mid  < i.it  /i,di<r/„r  J.iisf'jnrt  lOlS;  the  Kovi  fi/J'i.-< 
Fnnifiicf.'t  ii'irii/ir/m  \nr()  (>rl,i.-<  of  I'hiloponns,  1021;  tlie  ITr-sC  Iiidt'sclif  S]>i'  /lul, 
1()-J4:  (b.ttfriedt's  AV»^  Vilf.  lOIll;  l>e  L.u'f.s  A'nws'  0/-/,;>.,  10:«:  D'Avitv's 
Ac  yfitiidf,  10.'17;  Ogilby's  Aiiii'i-int,  ami  Di'  Xti'iiiiv  I'll  Oiihfhniili'  Wii'i-cld  of 
-MontaniH,  a  fine  old  Duteli  work,  clearly  ])rinted  ami  elaboi-ately  illustrated 
1071.  The  profusely  illuminated  works  of  I)octors  IIernafid<!Z  and  la-asmus 
Frauciseus  on  American  botany  arc  ami>ng  the  curious  relies  of  the  seven- 
teentli  century.  'J'liis  class  and  their  prototypes,  with  (piaint  illustrations, 
diminisli  rapidly  after  17<X).      Voyage  collections  continue  in  favor. 

JIulsins,  i>c  Hry,  and  Purchas  are  the  most  noticeable  of  the  seventeenth 
century.  altlioni,'h  all  of  tliem,  so  far  as  our  teri'itory  is  concerned,  are  re- 
markable for  tJK'ir  rarity  rather  than  for  their  intrinsic  im])ortanee.  Tlie 
work  of  1  )e  Ri'y  is  a  series,  rather  tlian  a  collection,  of  voyages  to  the  I'ast 
and  West  Indies,  pnblislie(l  in  both  Latin  and  (ierman  at  irregular  iiitcr\als 
from  l.')'.tO  to  10!!4,  in  liastily  rehashed  editions,  culled  from  the  readiest  source, 
with  illustrations  drawn  from  fancy  to  tit  the  narrative.  The  series  is 
divided  by  tlie  sizes  of  the  voluiiiiM  into  '  great '  anil  'little'  voyages,  tlic 
lirst  alone  relating  to  the  West  Indies  or  tlie  New  W.irld.  The  engiaviiiga 
were  of  a  hii^h  artistic  order  however,  and  assisted  to  sustain  the  mania  lor 
forming  com]ih'te  s(>ts  of  the  work. 

The  Ihilsins  collection,  Sliniiiidiiii'i  vnii  Sfrfi  uiid  Zii'"iizi:i  Sfliiff<dirtri),  is  a 
similar  series  dating  from  15'J8  to  1050.     Its  text  is  considered  more  accu- 


NOTES. 


666 


ratcly  edited  tlian  Do  Rry,  and  a  complete  set  is  also  of  greatrr  rariiy. 
Aslior  liiis  devoted  a  vdIhiiu;  to  a  lidiliognndiical  essay  on  HuIbiiis,  and  I'aiiiiis 
lias  done  tlie  same  for  l)e  IJry. 


(Jf  J'rrc/iu.i  Ids  Pil'jriiiiin  :in  edition  was  tml)lislicd  in  1514,  liut  the  com- 
li'te  ami  now  rare  edition  in  live  large  folio  voli'.iiies  appeared  in  loLT)  (j. 
>iiriug  tlie  last  (juai'tor  of  tiii;  century  lugan  tlie   narratives  of  the   voyages 


of  Liissan,  Sharp,  I  (ampler,  Wafer,  and  tiie  long  scries  of   liueeaiieeis  wi 
infested   tlie  Spaiiish-Ainerieaii   waters,     (temelli   Carreri's   O'iro  <l<l  Mumlo, 
ineluiUng  a  viiit  to  .\lt;.\ieo,  was  puldislunl  in  Hi!)!), 


arratioiis  of  voyages  round  tlie  woi 


Id,  and  in  the  northern  1' 


icilic 


are 


iiumeroui  and  imporlant  during  tlie   following   century,     imlmliiig  \\ Oode 


Kogi 


1718;  Siielvoeiie,  17-t);  Anson,    171S:   liitagh,  17r>7:  Coo!;.  V, 


I'arkinson,    17S4;    I'ortlock  and    Di.xoii,    17MI;     M 


eaic> 


17!I0:     Van 


M; 

rciiner, 


171)S;  and  La  rerun  so,  I7'.*S.      Collections  of  similar  accounts  aie  acKudin 


more  numerous,  if  not  more  important,  than    formerly.      The  Ha 
linii,  in  two  folios  was  piihlishcil  in  170.");  a  A'l 


rri 


ugly 
.lice- 


small  volumes  wa 


printed  in  1707  liy  I'ietcr  van 


uiiil:iuriij(   I  I  i-^dii.i  tiiir/  \\\  thirty 


ir  Ail 


iiiii   rt  till  (iiucii  m 


(Jottfriedt's  (iermaii  collection    in    four    folios   in    17-7.     The  Clnin  I 


ind 


ilarleian   collections,  forming  together  ten  folios,  vcre  is.-ued  in   l7-lo  niid 


1751'.      Drake 


a|)pearc 


d    in    1771;    Forster's  in   ]~Hi;  Iki 


n  17SS;  and  the  Spanish   I 


.1   J'. 


Idi/rri) 


r 


'/  in  4S  vols  ill  17'.M).     J  havi 


over,  a  score  of  minor  collections   piililishe<l  ihiriiig  the  century  in  dittereiit 
languages,  for  the  most  part  without  the  name   ot   editor  or  colhitor.     Ad- 


■  f   10' 


tram-lat. 


juncts    to    these   are    Linage's    A'o/Vc   tir    Caiilii 

J\nglish  in  1 700  as  the  S]hiiiish  J'ltli'  of  Trmli,  and  Cahrcra  I'ueir 


into 


lv<)i<'<uiilir  I  Pritil'ii"!  printed  at    Manila   in    17IU.  and    vhieh    includes  a 


kind  of  Coast  rilotof  the  western   coastof  North  AmericJi 


Aiiti 


veilo  s  niemori 


al  on  lh(^  commerce  of  the  Jndi 


illa->enor  y  Nancliez 


Th 


ipear 


d  in  1' 


'■  y  Al 


'ilrn 


I  nici'ii'diii). 


tical   character 


find 


]74(i,  is  fif  a  gcegra)ihie-slatis- 


s    more   eonei.'-e   ami   e( 


Ih 


rriiiiinrio  (rri);ir"jii'o-JI/.if(l 


umpleti 


torm  III 


Ah 


rsCi  0,  in  .")  voluiiK  s.     Leon  y'uwUi't^  E)  ifoinr 


(A  III   /ii'ill  'tliicd,  Itil'O,  in   three  volumes  is  the  earliest  attempt  at  Aim  lican 
l)il>liogiai>liy.    Ahi/i'sd'ii'itn.i  i/r  Litrrnturn.  ]7'.l(>-4,  luarksan  ejioch  in  Mi  .\ieo, 


d    the   same   may   he   said   of  the    Viizil".-<  ili    Mi 


1>' 


dical  sii 


egiin   in   17>*^4  as 


4'J  volumes 


miliar 

s  very  rare 


V  of  events,  and  continued  till  1M.'1.     This  valuahle  set  of 


few 


Many  of  the  ])receiling  piihlications  may  he  recognized  as  the]ir(iiliict  of  the 


iresses  existiiii'  in  the  Is'ew  \Verlil  d 


iiriug 


tlh 


emanations  from  this  source  eoiiNi>tei 


jireccding  cMitiirie: 


Th^ 


liowe\er,  111  eat( chi.-m^,  ritual 


dml 


iries,  calendar 


■I'll 


hit 


oils  ot  the  severa 


1  rel 


]} 


logr.iiiliiea 


igiollsori'ei> 
I., 


am 


Ithelik 


dii'tehes  of  American  priests  and  missionaries  liegiiiiiing  jier- 
liaps  with  the  life  of  Cordova  y  ]5ocaiiegia  in  Itil7,  are  very  iiumernus,  deal- 
ing with  the  Christian  virtues  of  the  suhject  rather  tliaii  with  the  events  of 
his  life.     Then  there  are  hnmlreds  of  printed  accounts  of  tlu^  Ap]iaritiiin  »if 


ler  miraiu'ous  inci 


ideiils 


"erniolis  are 


Our  T^ady  of  Ciiadaliipe,  and  of  ntl 

foiMid  in  still  greater  nuiuher.     It  seems  to  have  heen  customary  from  the 

with  enlog- 


earliest  times  fn 
istie  deilieat 


loll  : 


th. 


'rgvmeu 


to  h 


hituary  sermons   ]irin 


teil 


rhich   the  deceased    is    ofti 


•y  are  often  of  a  mystic  eharacler.   or  I'i  \irhose  vajmr 


alh; 


pr; 


if 


11 
dit 


it    mentioned    at  all,    or  accorded  flight 


rtain  (jiialities.  But  on  the  title  Jiage  of  the  himk, 
the  printing  of  which,  as  a  matter  of  eoiir-t!,  the  p.'ltron  or  deceased  ]iays 
for,  there  is  compensation  in   the  fulsome   llaltery  according  to  the  amount 


of  mom 


y  d, 


Tl 


jthoil 


the  only  )>age  that  is  ajit  to  he  read. 


judicious,  fur   it  assures   lei 


_'nitiiin  on 


riie  seieiitilic  revival  preri'diiii^  the  o)ieiiing  of  the  jireseitt  eeiitiiry  found 
fit  representation  in  tile  Works  of  .Mexamhr  von  lliimliohlt,  ha-ed  on  )ii  r- 
sonal  ohservations  iluriiig  his  travels  in  Spanish    Xiiierica-  from   \~W  tn  IMH 


lli^  V 


ill  ■<  ('orilitl/ri\  K 


Ki-iiti  /'iill/ii/ur  siir  III  A'( 


riinii'il    i'riliii'li'   ill'    I'    llitldiri'    ilr    lil    fri' 
■Iff  h'<}i'i  /III'  are  miiiiiimeiital  iii   ''acili' 


'!/'•"; 


d 


llli 

t  liti'ra- 


ture  for  their  revelations  in  hi.storie  ami  seieutilie  liraucnes,  and   fur  the  in- 


GCG 


KAliLY  CALIFOKNIA  I.ITKItATURK 


ciMitiviMliry  gave  tn  vidor  iiivpstipation.     Civil  wars  suiioi'Vcni'd  to  cliock 
{•li'orl  ■<  iiliMifj  I  III'  lU'w  jMlli,  while  liilliiij^  atli'iitinii  t 


(1  ni'Miiis 


i.i 


will 


(Ir.iwii  iiDiii  tlio  wiirlil.  Iiiiiii  (iiir.ii'  and  tr.ido  with  iMiU'ipiisiiig  uiiiidus 
siTVL-  luiwcvcr  to  .stri'iigtliiii  tlu'  daw  iiiiig  as|iiratioim  on  lioili  sides  lor  Icaril- 
iiij;  nioif  of  cacli  otliur.  'I'lic  i  I'^iilL  is  jmi  licularly  ohstrvalilu  m  tlio  lii.slcirit', 
gcngiapaif,  and  statistical  inililicatioiis  iiiianaliiig  fronior  under  tliu  aiisjiices 


ol 


•let  KM    1 


U'Vott 


to    SlU'll 


stildii 


tin-  lat.'Sii.iiii 


^ll   I'olll 


Tlio  Soi'ii'dad  dc  ( ' 


lint  w  liK'li  w<re  ra)iiilly  oigaiii/rd  in 


;ialia  v  Ksiailistiea  ol'  Mixii 


1  itii'lf  ii.  liiii  Work  liv  \  oliiiniiioiis,  oxliaiistive,  and 


])orl  ■(  in  all    scctioin   ot   tlio   repniilu',  in   cinnlation  \\ 


itli    tlic   traveller- 


stii  ienfs  lielong.nn   notalily  to  the  Aiiieriean    Antiquarian  and    Klliiiologieal 
soi-ii!tiei,  to  tiie  Royal  ( ii'ogiajihieal  and    llakliiyt  sociotios  ol    Kiiglaiul,  tlui 


f't.1    do   ( 


I  'ogr,i|)iiio 


.f   Fi 


anee. 


uiil   tile  Aeadeinit!  dur    WisseiiM  lial t  of 


ai:iii\'. 


1' 


lie    1. 


oks   on   similar  t 


arc   inslanee 


1   I'V   K 


seudero's 


x ./; 


M 


m     Cliihiiahiia    and    Durango,    >niiier'.-)    L'tiUral   Aim  rirn,    Uranu 


lyer 


.1/. 


,ivi'(>,  aiii 


1  otlr 


While  iniests  and  eoiKjiierors  united  in  estalilisliing  the  oiillines  of  South 


niuriea,  tlie  iiorlli-west    leiiiaiiK 


d 


)lved 


iiivsteiv  until  tlie  U 


in  the  middle  of  the  eightinnth  eentiiry,  estahlished  its  sejiaration  Iroiii  Asi  i 
liy  I'l-'riiig  strait,  and  iiieited  the  jealous  iSpani.irds  and   I'lnnlish  to  niieWMl 


ex[ilorations  under  ( ' 


d  V, 


revealeil   the  true  oiitlirio  of   the  eoast. 


■Jl 


ind  hy  the  •Siilil  i/  Mi.r/rdiio,  whh  li 


lareli   for  tin;  noilh-wt'st 


sage  disclosed,   a    few   deiades    later,    the  water   boundary  iiloiig   the   luulh 


although  inipraetie 


ihlo  I 


or  naviuation. 


l?ooks  are  our  hoon  eoiniianioiis,  ever  fresh,  ever  entertaining,  and  no  h 


id. 


lor  tl 


leir  H'lritir  r/r/i   than  for  tlieir  aiilKine  w  isdoin.      I'linled  hool 


are  social,  hut.  there  is  sonietiiing   liki'  sacred  riscrve  in  a  niaiuiseriiil,  jiar- 


tlciilailv  it  then 
visihl 


no  iiipy  ol  It. 


'Ilh 


leii  it  staiels  an  incarnati^d  soiii, 


lieliiir    lua 


sp, 


y  I'y  va 

hi'iiee  the  sou 


d.d   hook  l)uriiers  he  hlolled  out,  even  as  tlu^  assas- 
1  of  1 


otih 


Aino  g  the  jirinled   h 


sh 


hut 


))ook  has  its  alt' 


IIS  vietini. 
ks  of  a  liijiary  there  are  many  faces   f 
ipts   have  thei 


!')•  !■;/(>  I 


11  a  hundred  or  a  th< 


r  ihstiiict  |icrson;iliiy 


llc<l 


lousiiid  dlLlerelit  places  at  one  time; 
a  111  laiHcript  is  like  a  man,  one  and  indivisihle. 

In  Am  riea,  nianiiseripts  readily  .s[ian  the  entire  pci'iod  of  occupation,  and 


lave   tlieriMoro    an    nicstimalile    cliroiiologie  coin[deU  i 


iuction  ol  the  prnitiiiLi-press  ii.totl 


V 


)emtcni'e  on  pen  aii< 


,is 


II 


l(  rent  colonies  ]iidm| 


'I'll 
ited 


Uow  inlro- 
;rcater  uc 


nvolviiiu;  as  these  do  the  lugiunnig  ai 


th 


d 


dcvclopinciit  of  nearly  all  existing  orders  of  things,  their  iiii|iortaiici:  is  iMirri'- 
poiidiimly  increased.     They  represent  in  Sp; 


s 


•a  tiie  ell'orts  of  t' 


successively  dominating   races,  and  in  the  Anglo  Saxon  sections  of  the  cm 


Zetiu  toiim 


slates,  phinted  midst  warfare  and  hardships.     They 


licse  men   ami   races 


lild   hreatli 


111  the  chirogiaphy  the  characleristics 

in  the  style  the  spirit  vliicli  animated  Iicil  cruel  eoni(ilerors,  lliert!  peaci 

missionaries,  fearless  explorers,  and  enter[irisiiig  settlers,  oppressed  native 


•fill 


dst 


I'll  gut  I II  g  conimn  111  ties. 


They  eiiihraeo  edicts  and  regulations  hy  political  and  ecclesiastical  iiiill 


es,  menior 


iti 

hy  otlicials  and    mi 

ri'lirese.italives,  an 


rials  ami  iictitions  of  to 


1 

(SIOl 

1  of 


ithi 


iliviilnals,  re[iorls  and  stalislics 


rs,  eorii'spi 


ndence   of  trader.s 


anil   iiulustr 


trial 


'Mety. 
and 
of  alV.i 
ret^ai'd 


Tl 


]navatc  persons  who  picture  the  inner  (Miascs  ol  si 


ley  are  originals  and   select  co|iies,  and   dictations    from   pioneers 

irmniiieiit  men  in  all  hraiiclies  of  life,  giving  their  ixpcriiiices  and  view  s 

This  and    iiior<'  is  contained    in  that  jiarticiilar  jiortion  which  1 

the  g(!iii  of  my  lilirary.      Arranged  and  iiound  in  volunus,  the  olll- 

pleti 


rial  ami  |irivate  eorrespondcnce  in  itself  presents  a  eoiiipli:te  histmiit  outline. 
The  dictations  cover  it  in  another  form,  tlie  iiuiiiher  of  testimonies  ou  each 
point  servini;  to  suhstaiitiatc  the  principal  facts  in  each  occnrnnce.  One 
series  of  shelvts  contain,  in  eonci-.e  form,  the  (mtirw  ar''liive.s  of  <'aliforiiia 
from  1700  for  the  following  liuiidred  years,  ai  reduced  from  theotlieial  dcpos- 


NOTKS. 


(U!7 


itnrv,  .Ttvl  wiM'ili'iI  of  siini-rllmtii'M.     'I'lic  value  of  tlic  (':ilifi>iiii,i  ii 


iMiii-icripts, 


Kiii^iii.il  M\i\  i(i|m'-i,  cMii  lu^.sL  lie  csliiii.itcil  liy  iIk;  .^laU'iiiciit.  tliat  triiiii 
tlu'iii  aloiit,' laii  Ik:  written  a  far  iiidi-o  eciiiiplete  liistory  lliaii  Inmi  all  tlio 
printed  aeeomils  ami  ImmiUs  oxtaiit;  these  latter  Ipeiiit;.  lur  lliat  m:itter, 
very  (leleelive  on,  or  contailiiiii,'  no  allusion  wliali^ver  to,  soini'  of  tlu'  most 
niterestini;  e|)isoi|(  s.  'I'lms  far  in  illnstr.ilion  of  tin;  iin|ioitanee  ol  Anuiuaii 
ami  p  (I'tieulai'Iy  I'aeilie  inaiinseri[it.'4. 

Still  iirealer  treasiin.s  woiilil  have  reaeheil  mi  Imt  for  the  vamlalism,  lii'st 


.f  1 


ol     liI''ot,e( 


I   eeelt!siastie-i,  at  whose   haiid-i    thesliMih 


!«•  ol    kniivvleii;^e  reiiive 


more  attention  tli.iii  the  Bubstance.     Anii'riean  yohl  was  Christ's,  Imt  Aimi 
Kin   art   and   science  weio   Sitin'M.      IJishops   1  il   the  way   in    raiils   on    tl 
ehoieest  Miieeiinens  of  native  craft,  and  even  of  the  fruits  of  iininoilal   iiiiii 
lijack   smoke-elonds  «cre  inaile  wliieli   .should  ohsenre  still    iiiori:  the  rayn  of 
III'  eie'i'iideriii''  siin 


.1 


d 


w  hieh  II 


The  raids  revived   liiter  duriiij,'  the  interiireine 
I  Siiaiiish  Anieriea  IimI  to  tin!  destrmtion  of  arehives  and  to  tin 


terinj'  of   lihraries.      To  the  latter  mv  .slnlve.s 


■at- 
wilness  in   Ihonsauds  of 


volumes  )^;itlie|ed  at  the  .sale  of  n\\ 


ell  eo||r( 


tioM.s  .IS  the  .\ielr.ide-M,i  Miiidian 


A  moll  1^  these  inaiiuseri|ils  are  four  hiilky  lomes  eoiil.iiniiiL:  the  oi  ii^in.d  .'eis 
of  the  lir.sl  three  [iroviueial  eoiiueds  held  in  Mexico  dining;  tin:  .sixleiiil  ii  een- 


t  nrv 


touelh 


'r  with  the  v.irnuu  petitioi 


IS  .'lie!  (|iiesl neis  on  civil  ,'in 


1  ivli 


illiirs   snlmiilted   to   their  decision,  and   Jiidvided  w  ith   tin:  autoL;ra|)lis   ami 
M'.ds  of  the   kiiiu,  prelates,  olliei.ds,  lael   men  of  note.     Their  value   may  he 


di'l'stood  W 


icll  we   CO 


isidi'f   the    il 


llpo 


it.iiit    I'lle    pla\  ed    hv  til 


e    chliri'll    Ml 


.ill.i'rs  of  state  in  oiieii  eoimeil  or  hrhiiel  il  even  diiriiii;  1  ili'i-  times,  in  Iho 
Uriiie  of  her  power,  aiul  her  continued  iidlilein'e  over  the  imlr  idual  liy  me.in.s 
of  pulpit  and  confession  il. 

Tlic:  spiritual  admiiiislration,  and  even  secular  In'.inehe^,  in  the  whole  of 
Sp.inish  ncU'theni  and  ci'iitral  ,\meriea,  were  i'e;/ula|.d  hy  llie  ilieree,,  of  ihe 
three  councils  of  hishops  eont.iined  in  the  four  \dlunies  of  oiejinal  records 
l)i:ioii)  mi';  and  their  rnhis,  apjiroved  hy  popi.s  and  kin^s,  have  in  ,i  L;iciier 
or  less  (leLjree  controlled  the  destiny  of  tlio  iSpanisli-speakiii}^  race  in  .\ineiiia 
till  the  |)resent  day. 

'I'hu  lirst  council  was  couvciii'd  in  !.".".">  Iiy  .Monso  de  Monliif.ir,  second 
ircjihishop  of  Mexii'o,  assistecl  liy  four  hishops;  tin:  second  leii\c,irs  liler, 
hy  the  same  ])rclatc,  attended   Ity  live   hishops;  and  the  third  in   l.'iS.'i,   under 

r.is,   arehliishop  ;ind    vicc^rov,  W  il  h 


tiie   prcsiileiicy  of    INilro    Moya  y('ontrei 


veil  hishops,  one  hy  proxy.       1  he  |nini'lp.'il   ]ioiiils   rctcrred  to.i 


tcssl 


ill   of   f.iuli,  iiistructioii   Iiooks,   Indian    reyiilat 
d 


ions 


•linreli 


tlu:  pi 


I  iiiu'iils,  ceremonies  and   riles    testaiiieuts,  le.ists,  inarria'. 


Icerees,  sae- 
re^ul.itiiuis   for 


ipy,    trihunals,    notaries    ami    alcaldes,    usury,    sorcery,    hl.isphcniy.    .and 

inor.ility. 

The   acts    are   siened    hy   tin:   several    incmhers  of    tie iineils  with   ,a 


niorica,  o 


r  I'lahoratu   llourish.  which    fi 


nam    the   essential    put    of    S|iaiii>h 
.\merican  si|.;n,ilures,  or  with  an  initial  .illixed  lo  the  episcopal   title.      .Sdin 


tl 


u;    re'..;ul  iLioiis    poiii 


t    to    laxil 


y   anion 


the   cler'4 


\    in 


iiiihliim  and  won 


leii.      .Several  of  I  he  catechisms  ami  <hielrin: 


■  niicct  ion    \\  itli 
rcLjulal  ions. 


d   commentaries   hy  these  coun.  .Is   lorin   sfiecial  voluiiie-i  on    mv  shelve 


signci 


Ml  presidin'4  pri'l.ites. 


A  pastoral  of   Znniiirra>.'a   is   intercsliii^  as  heinij  from  the  lir-t   l)i^ho|i  on 
tut!  continent,  relating  to   the   foundation    of    llu:  cathedral   at    .Mexico,  and 


inlainint;   an    oiNler    s\'^\ 


d  V 


Ii 


e\ii,i 


II). 


usual    aulocratie    toriii    ot 


"^i  anish  isoveroif^ns  -  hy  ynceii  .Inau.i,  mother  of  ( 'harh  s  \' 


The  nature  of  early  .Spanish  mauiiscripts  reveal  the  predomin.ince  of 
iars  and  ehurchineii  in  clerical  tasks,  .is  inissiouaries  and  as  attemlant.s  of 
cplorcrs,  <'onipierors,  and  ])ionei:rs.  Tlio  reports  and  coirespondcnce  an: 
ly  from  their  pen.      I'lie  relieioiis  feeling  enforced  and  snst.iined   liy  the 


!  iiee 


hiireii,  and  tlio  work  of 


converting;  the  niiiiierous  ii.itive<,  ^ave  moreover  a 


prepondcratiiii;  .st.iinii  ^"  1"''*  jiroductions  in  the  loriii  of  sermons  and  jiaK- 
t  irals,  devoliou.il  excrcis  .s,  sacred  allei^orics,  comnn;iils  on  niiraehs  and 
sliriiie.s,  aaintly  Jjancgyrica  and  hiogiaphie.s.      'I'ln:  reyiu'd  for  these  ctl'orts   in 


1  \'M'',t 


668 


EARLY    CALIFORNIA   LITKRATURK. 


fnrllipr  inilicati^d  by  tlio  frequent  illmiiinatinii  of  text  and  title  pafrrs  with 
CiiiiitiiN,  ti'iicerie.s  in  l)lue  iiml  red,  scrcills,  tloriil  deeorations,  arelies,  and 
]itMlestals,  witii  siiields  and  eirililazoningM,  clierul)s,  and  synilxils,  in  iniitalinn 
(il  tlie  niediiuval  monk  imKlnctinns  on  vellnin,  as  in  the  I'laliorate  MoroUn  S. 
(Irfjitrii  /'iivi;  a  eonnnontary  on  the  hook  of  .loh  in  ;?.")  [parts,  hy  tlie  saintly 
(iri'Ljory.  It  is  written  in  small,  eh>se,  (Jothie  ty[)e,  so  even  as  to  rescnililc 
IirintiiiL,'.  A  monument  of  patient  industry,  it  is  also  an  attraetive  nieeinun 
of  ornamentation. 

Many  of  the  early  ehronicles  wlii<'h  faihd  to  rcaeh  the  press  lie  on  my 
shelves  ill  original  or  eopied  manuseript,  yet.  prest^nt  fully  as  valuahle  niati-- 
rial  as  tlios(!  in  [mhlisiiod  form.  This  has  lately  hecii  rieoj^nized  hy  tlx; 
printed  issue  of  sevcu'al  aMiotii;  tiiem,  under  the  a\isi)ieeH  of  societies  iind 
zealous  scholars.  This  is  also  the  ease  with  such  doeuments  as  the  J. Hud  ar 
Citliililn  of  .Mexico,  with  the  enactments  of  the  lirst  city  council  on  the  Noitli 
American  continent;  likewise  the  re|>orts  and  memorials  of  eaily  Ci  iiti.d 
American  and  .Mexican  explorer-i,  from  Cohinihus  to  Alvarado,  anil  later. 
I)iaries  form  an  important  section;  .^cientitie  and  jihihisophical  treatises 
Is  of  th(!  iirolilic  Mexican  historian  and  lejiislator,  Husla- 


aoonml.  1  he  orignials  ot  th(!  prolihe  .Mcxu'an  historian  and  Icfiisiator,  niisla- 
niante,  revealed  to  me  inucli  imiiortant  matter  siH)|)reHsed  when  they  were 
sent  to  the  printer,  and  shediliiiL;  adilitional  li.L;lit  on  his  period.  The  .Mcxi- 
cans  have  a  forensic  phrasi^olo^'y  in  their  correspondence,  and  the  mass  of 
Ice.il  pa|(ers  seems  to  iinlicate  a  fondness  for  jiiridie  mysticism.  On  the 
otiier  liand,  the  declamatory  style  and  softness  of  tlieir  laiij^uajie  lead  natu- 
rally to  versilication,  for  wliich  thi^r  vivacity,  social  jjaycty,  and  gallantry 
ati'ord  frcipicnt  excuse.  Nuiikm'ous  collections  of  unpulilished  poems,  and 
single  pieces,  especially  lyric  and  satiriu,  bear  witness  to  the  dispositiou. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

PLATO  kevisi;d. 

Taiitnin  rclifiio  potuit  suadere  maloruni  \— Lucretius, 

Socrates^.     Can  tliis  bo  Plato? 

J*(at<).     It  is  he. 

Socrates.     Where  are  we  ? 

Plato.  Ill  liell  or  lieaven  ;  I  know  not  how  tho 
phico  is  called  ;  but  howsoever  called  it  is  tlie  same, 
and,  let  us  hope,  a  happy  conservation-ground  for  the 
gods. 

.Sorrate'.  Is  it  a  place?  Arc  we  awake?  ll<»w 
loni^  have  I  slept  ? 

l*laio.  If  we  are  not  awake,  then  is  it  no  place— 
per]ia])S  in  any  event  more  a  condition  than  a  place  ; 
and  it'  it  be  within  the  realm  of  eternity,  the  nuasuie 
of  days  is  not  employed.  Some  lately  come  hither 
from  where  time  is  told  say  there  are  a  S('(»re  and 
more  of  centuries  since  the  affair  of  the  hendock. 

Socrates.  Ah  1  I  remember,  I  was  jx'rmittcd  to 
kill  myself  because  Melitus  said  I  did  not  believe  iu 
the  gods— that  I  sought  too  curiously  into  things 
above  the  earth  and  under  it,  and  made  the  worse 
a[>i)ear  tlu^  b(  cter. 

Plato.  Ill  conunoidv  befalls  him  who  s])eaks  against 
time-hononxl  traditions,  dissuading  men  from  their 
favorite  opinions. 

Socratci^.  l^ut  what  if  they  believe  a  lie  ;  what  if 
there  are  no  gods  on  01ynn)us,  no  reserved  heaven  <.f 
happiness,  no  hades,  with  infernal  enginery  for  the 
torture  of  departed  souls  ? 

Plato.     Men   would  rather  not  know,  than  know 

(009) 


:  m 


670 


PT.ATO  REVISKD. 


wluit  lilsos  tlioin  not.  Besides,  Socrates,  you  iKVrr 
tauLcht  that  tloetriiio.  You  liave  e\er  unlu-M  all 
ros[H(tal»lt'  (It'itit'S,  would  not  tolerati;  Hoiiicr  win  ic 
lie  ci'iticiscs  tlicir  conduet,  would  not  even  admit  tliat 
it  were  possible  for  tlieni  to  do  wroiiLj.  If  nou 
believed  not  in  tlie  };ods,  Avliy  ordered  you  a  cock 
sacrific<'d  to  7l*]scula[)ius  ( 

Sorrnfrs;  As  hciiij^  is  to  lieeoiiiiiii;  so  is  truth  to 
lielicjf,  ai'd  I»elieviii!jj  todoiiijj^.  ]fa!»it  is  stroii'j^  within 
us,  and  worship[)ers  nnist  not  too  closely  scrutinize  the 
character  and  morals  of  the  ohjeet  of  their  a(l<»ralinii  ; 
else  they  will  not  loiii;'  he  worsliipjicrs.  ^^^•  iii;i\ 
trul}^  say  that  the  gods  liave  much  to  ar.swer  for,  man 
liaving  s;icrifieed  to  them  many  of  his  nohU'.st 
impulses. 

Pluto.  You  have  ever  listened  to  the  divine  voice, 
ni}'  master,  and  ])ossessed  the  wisdom  to  apj-iclK  nd 
ignorance,  even  if  found  within  yours.  If ;  for  it  is  no 
less  the  mark  of  wisdom  to  know  whei'cin  we  ki;n\v 
not  than  to  know  wherein  we  know.  Your  [)hilos()pliy 
comes  humanized  from  heaven. 

Sncrafr^.  I  have  always  loved  knowledge,  m\- 
Plato,  deenu^d  it  virtue,  and  the  condition  of  soul 
incid(Mit  thereto  tlio  highest  good,  and  prefcrr(>d  the 
study  of  human  nature  of  which  we  may  knovv'  much, 
to  that  of  the  divine  nature  of  which  we  can  learn  so 
little. 

Pldfn.  In  that  thou  showcst  true  wisdom,  O 
Socratt^s.  A  proper  appreliension  of  the  nature  of 
ideas  unfolds  a  system  of  perfect  and  ))eri)ctual  ty[)es 
as  th(^  foundation  of  all  morality.  Philosophy  is  not 
alone  knowledge,  or  speculation,  l)ut  wisdom,  that  is 
wise  action,  and  virtue,  which  is  nothing  less  than 
practical  reason. 

Sncmfcs.  Yes,  Plato,  notwithstanding  its  occasional 
transccndent.'d  flights,  your  i)hilosophy  is  essentially 
taltruistic.  Virtue  is  wisdom  and  vice  folly ;  moder- 
ation and  justice  are  two  of  the  chief  Platonic  virtues, 
moderation   meaning    sound-mindedness,  and  justice 


I'LATO  IIEVISED. 


071 


0 

(if 

ot 

is 

|:in 


assiojnii\f^  to  acts  and  functions  tliclr  proper  places. 
Yet  Platonic  jtliilosopliy,  though  altruistic  and  prac- 
tical, is  eniiiientlv  theolo<j;ic,  action  beiiiLj  the  liiuliest 
aim  of  man,  morality  the  ideal  of  action,  and  God, 
author  of  all,  the  ideal  of  ideals,  or  supreme  source 
of  virtue  and  excellence. 

ridfo.  Platonic  philosojihy,  as  you  are  ph  as(  d  to 
term  it,  comes  from  Socrates  and  (Jreece,  and  emhodic^s, 
lik((  th(^  teachings  of  the  ]>uddha,  and  all  sul>s(  (juent 
founders  of  new  and  great  religions,  all  that  wuh  best 
in  all  that  in-eviouslv  existed.  You,  niv  master,  were 
a  moral  phenomenon,  a))pearing  midway  between  two 
()th(>r  great  teachers,  the  Buddha  and  the  Christ.  In 
conjiuictiou  with  a  lofty  soul  you  displayed  sticmg 
animal  [)ropensities,  and  had,  if  you  remend)er,  a  Ihit 
nos(\  pronuncnt  eyes,  and  wt  re  not  r(>mail<ahly  fine 
looking.  The  con\ic  poet  Aristoplianes  riihculetl  \  ou 
in  his  coniedv  of  The  Clouds,  vet  not  in  the  least  to 
your  discomfiture.  You  taught  in  povert\-  witliout 
pay,  overtuining  fiilsc-  systems,  and  inculcating  superi- 
ority of  soul  and  the  true  welfare  of  man  in  ])refer- 
ence  to  worldly  i)leasur(>s.     You   wei'o  caDtious  and 


IV  p 


'P 


critical,  dealt  freely  in  sarcasm,  pricked  huhhh  s.  and 


espised    meanmgless    i)lirases 


You 


M-el'(> 


alv,;'.  \  s 


attacking  jiopidar  opinion.  Any  doctrine  whose  li^g- 
ical  conclusions  were  i)a][i:il)]y  ahsuid  you  would 
])rom|)tly  jiut  away.  Knowing  little  of  luitural 
science,  you  turned  from  physical  })henomena  to  the 
soverciu'utv  of  truth  as  revealed   hv  m; 


ui  s  Conscious- 


ness. 


It 


1) 


ou  d 


was   hecause  you  denounced    po])ular^!c( 


exposed  soidiistrv,  and  scour',''ed   follv  that   \  <  u  m<  ii 
])ersecut(.'d.      It  is  the  fate  of  refoi'incrs. 


Socrates.     EiKuiu'h,  mv  Plato.     Ofv 


ou  1  wi 


11  onh 


say  that  }'our  effort  to  comliiiie  })oetry  and  philoso- 
phy in  ^-our  writings  was  most  successful,  the  ic-ult 
being  a  model  of  artistic  ])erfection  united  with  tie 
most  profound  ]iliilosop]iic  acuteness.  Yet  you  an  a 
little  too  poleinicah  some  might  say,  and  at  times  oi-e- 
sided,  particularly  when    the   su[)reinacy   of   thought 


67-' 


PLATO  REVISED. 


COMICS  ill  conflict  with  the  claims  of  tlic  senses.  Again, 
ethics  and  ontoioj^y  are  so  blended  that  It  is  ol'U  n 
impossible  to  a[>prchend  yonr  meaning,  and  when  you 
dcscund  to  deal  in  the  unknowable  your  superiority  is 
wholly  lost.  Am  J  right  in  my  surmise,  O  greatest  and 
best  of  men,  that  you  adopted  the  dialogistie  f<-iin, 
following  the  Socratic  idea,  not  so  much  to  communi- 
cate kn(»wledge  as  to  lead  to  the  s[)ontaneous  dis- 
covery (jf  it  :* 

Plata.     Quite  right,  Socrates. 

Socrdfrs.  In  the  Thetetetus  wo  find  developed  the 
Platonic  theory  of  knowledge,  which,  1  might  say,  is 
to<)  idealistic  for  prac  leal  minds. 

/*l(ifi).  In  the  f(»rmation  of  conceptions  mind 
rather  than  sensation  is  the  dominant  factor. 

Socrdlrs.  True;  but  I  surmise  that  times  have 
changed  since  our  happy  days  at  Athens,  and  that  in 
pres(Mit  att'airs  the  real  stands  above  the  fanciful. 

P/df'i.  therefore,  must  we  forever  continue  our 
negative  discussion  of  the  philosophy  of  life  begun  in 
the  ancient  dialectics  ? 

Socrafrii.     Assuredly  not. 

Plafo.  Yet,  how  ftir  shall  we  venture,  O  Socrates  '. 
Are  you  prepared  to  ask  3'ourself,  Is  the  divine 
reached  throuuh  the  human,  or  the  human  tlirouiih 
the  divine  ? 

Socrafc!^.  Before  attempting  to  answer  that  ques- 
tion, Plato,  I  would  know  something  more  of  the 
moral  atniosj)here  of  this  place,  and  what  advance,  if 
any,  has  been  made  toward  fathoming  the  secrets  of 
the  universe  since  we  were  in  Athens.  Long  laid 
away  the  mind  becomes  n)usty,  and  I  could  nevtr 
talk  well  in  the  dark. 

Plafo.  Nothing  new  is  known  ;  nothing  can  he 
l(}arned  even  here.  Some  backward  advance  has 
been  made,  which  is  indeed  sometimes  the  greatest 
progress  forward,  in  unlearning  what  was  wrongly 
learned.  Long  has  been  the  time  of  meditation,  an<l 
hard  the  words  to  utter,  even  by  mouths  of  gravest 


PLATO  REVISED. 


678 


wisdom,  that  of  the  unknowable  man  can  know 
nothing. 

iSocratcfi.  But  who  shall  say  there  is  aught  to  man 
unknowable,  either  on  earth  or  in  heaven?  Let 
mind  be  matter,  and  matter  immortal  ;  let  soul  be 
nature,  and  nature  God  ;  then  is  it  not  folly  for  man, 
a  half-finished  product  of  the  universe,  to  limit  the 
powers  of  nature  and  of  mind  ? 

l^lato.  Since  coming  hither  and  finding  neither 
entity  nor  nonentity,  1  have  been  tempted  to  review 
somewhat  my  own  and  others'  teachings. 

Socrates.  Little  have  I  taught,  though  questioning 
much.  They  say  I  professed  ignorance  as  a  foil  to 
sarcasm.  Little  need  for  feigning,  as  I  am  reminded 
by  my  present  surroundings.  On  what  based  you, 
Plato,  the  knowledge  that  you  taught  ? 

J*l(ito.     On  traditions  and  intuitions. 

Socrates.     Of  what  ? 

Plato.  Of  origin,  agency,  immortality,  and  the 
rest. 

Socrates.  In  the  Timseus  it  is  written  that  for 
everything  there  is  a  cause;  for  the  creation  of  the 
world  the  father  of  all,  the  best  of  causes,  who,  being 
good,  and  finding  things  in  disorder,  framed  the  uni- 
verse, this  world,  his  fairest  work,  becoming  a  living 
soul,  with  divine  life  of  everlasting  motion. 

Plato.     It  is  so  written. 

Socrates.  And,  having  been  created  in  this  way, 
the  world  has  been  framed  with  a  view  to  that  which 
is  apprehended  by  reason  and  mind. 

Plato.     Yes. 

Socrates.  And  that  the  beirinninff  of  evcrvthinrj 
should  be  according  to  nature. 

Plato.     It  nmst  be  so. 

Socrates.  Where  shall  we  look  for  the  beginning, 
Plato  ? 

Plato.  As  I  have  said,  in  the  best  of  causes,  the 
father  of  all. 

Socrates.     Tell   me,   what  were  the   things  which 

StiSAYii  AND  AilSCBU.ANY     13 


t74 


PLATO  REVISED. 


the  father  of  all  found  in  disorder  when  he  framed 
them  into  a  harmonious  cosmos  i 

Plato.  Chaos,  that  vacant,  infinite  space,  or  con- 
fused shapeless  mass,  out  of  which  sprang  all  things 
that  exist. 

Socrates.  And  God  was  there,  God  and  Chaos, 
only  those  two  ;  and  what  and  whence  were  they,  niv 
Plato  ? 

Plato.  Out  of  chaos  arose  all  things,  and  gods  and 
men. 

Socrates.  Who  made  the  gods  and  men  and  all 
things  out  of  chaos  ? 

Plato.     The  great  artificer. 

^Socrates.     That  is  to  say,  God  ? 

Plato.     Socrates,  yes. 

Socrates.     Plato,  who  was  first.  Chaos  or  God  ? 

Plato.  By  Jupiter  1  Socrates,  why  do  you  ask  me 
such  a  question  ? 

Socrates.  Not  that  I  expect  an  answer,  truly,  but 
that  I  mav  ask  another. 

Plato.    "What  is  that  ? 

Socrates.  You  say  that  everything  that  is  must 
•have  been  created  by  some  cause.  God  exists  and 
chaos  was.  Which  was  first,  God  or  chaos,  you  cannot 
tell  ;  how  can  you  better  know  or  better  explain  tlic 
creation  of  the  universe  outof  chaos  than  the  creation 
or  existence  of  chaos  ? 

Plato.  I  know,  Socrates,  you  merely  wish  to  talk. 
and  though  I  see  no  profit  in  it.  I  will  humor  you. 

Socrates.  I  would  to  God,  Plato,  I  might  do  more 
than  talk.  Many  bubbles  have  I  pricked,  many  false 
doctrines  e>  ^sed,  but  here  would  I  gladly  be  estab- 
lished. 

Plato.  W  3ther  we  will  or  no,  we  must  distin- 
guish cause  i  om  condition  ;  or  rather  we  must sonu- 
where  cease  to  question  for  a  cause  and  accept  the 
condition. 

Socrates.  Then  why  not  take  up  the  question  of 
cause  from  some  real  and  tangible  condition  ? 


PLATO  REVISED. 


075 


Plato.     There  is  no  law  against  it. 

Socrates.  But  when  asked,  was  the  world  cheated, 
or  had  it  always  existence,  created,  you  reply,  heini^ 
as  you  say,  visible  and  tangible  and  having  a  body, 
and  therefore  sensible,  as  more  fully  explained  in  your 
TiniSBUS. 

Hato.     Yes. 

Socrates.  And  you  further  state,  in  that  not  too 
logical  effusion,  that  the  causes  God  employs  arc  of 
two  kinds,  intelligent  and  unintelligent,  and  the  pro- 
duct is  made  up  of  necessity  and  mind.  Mind,  you 
say,  the  ruling  power,  persuaded  necessity  to  bring 
the  greater  part  of  created  things  to  i)erfection,  and 
thus  in  the  beginning  when  the  hifluence  of  reason 
got  the  better  of  necessity,  the  universe  was  created. 
AH  this  is  pure  fancy,  as  any  one  may  know  ;  and 
you  finally  admit  that  you  cannot  explain  first  prin- 
ciples, and  will  not  discuss  the  origin  of  things, 
though  you  have  your  opinion  thereon. 

Plato.     You  are  wholly  correct. 

Socrates.  But  my  dear  Plato,  how  can  you  better 
explain  the  ways  of  God  than  the  origin  of  God  ? 
You  will  admit  that  you  know  no  more  of  one  than 
of  the  other ;  that  you  were  no  more  present  at  the 
creation  of  the  world  than  at  the  creation  of  the 
creator.  And  yet,  while  you  decline  to  discuss  the 
one  you  will  discourse  upon  the   other  till  doomsday. 

Plato.  The  world  being  visible  and  tangil)le,  I  said 
it  had  a  creator ;  the  creator  being  invisible  and 
intangible,  I  said  I  could  not  account  for  his  becom- 


ing- 


Socrates.  That  does  not  answer  my  question, 
which  was,  how  can  you  better  explain  the  acts  than 
the  origin  of  an  invisible  creator,  knowing  nothing  of 
either  ? 

Plaio.  We  must  fall  back  on  tradition,  Socrates, 
which  has  had  more  to  do  in  forming  opinion  than 
all  other  evidence  and  influence  combined. 

Socrates.     What  has  tradition  to  do  with  it  ?     Did 


676 


PLATO  REVISED. 


the  earlier  and  more  ignorant  men  know  morcoftluiir 
maker  than  we  ? 

Plato.  Of  the  origin  of  the  great  artificer  we  have 
held  that  it  is  sacrilege  to  question  ;  to  tell  of  other 
divinities  and  to  know  their  origin  is  beyond  us,  and 
we  must  accept  the  genealogies  of  the  poets  and  the 
traditions  of  the  men  of  old  who  affirm  themselves  to 
be  the  offspring  of  the  gods,  and  they  must  surely 
have  known  the  truth  about  their  own  ancestors. 

f%cratcs.     How  should  they  know  ? 

Flato.     They  were  so  told. 

Socrates.     Who  told  them  ? 

Plato.     Their  ancestors. 

Socrates.     And  who  told  their  ancestors? 

Plato.     Those  who  lived  before  them. 

Socrates.  Ye  gods  1  Plato  ;  and  is  this  the  only 
basis  of  your  belief? 

Plato.  How  can  we  doubt  the  word  of  the  children 
of  the  gods? 

Socrates.  Do  you  know  there  were  ever  any  gods. 
or  if  so  that  they  had  any  children,  or  if  so  that 
they  ever  so  asserted  ? 

Plato.  It  is  true  that  they  give  no  certain,  or  even 
probable  imx)f;  yet,  as  they  declare  that  they  arc 
s[)eaking  of  family  traditions,  we  must  believe  tlitiii 
in  obedience  to  the  laws. 

Socrates.  By  the  dog  of  Egypt  1  Plato,  that  wor(^ 
stout  argunjent  for  the  blockheads  of  Athens,  two 
thousand  years  ago — we  nmst  obey  the  law  niid 
believe  tliom  1  My  dear  friend,  where  have  you  been 
since  I  last  saw  you  ?  Although  I  have  slept,  T 
am  aware  that  all  these  centuries  there  has  hwu 
progress,  which  is  indeed  eternal  as  the  gods  them- 
selves, and  that  I  am  now  with  all  the  world  far 
away  from  the  Greece  of  old.  One  cannot  sleep  a 
single  night  and  awake  to  find  himself  the  sanu  : 
much  less  can  the  soul  lie  dormant  for  centuries. 

Plato.  Socrates,  you  speak  the  truth.  I,  too,  am 
not  the  Plato  of  old,  else  I  were  not  Plato,  bohofs 


PLATO  REVISED. 


677 


having  so  cbanged,  and  knowledge  having  so  won- 
derfully hicreased.  But  when  you  question  after  the 
ancient  way,  constrained  by  my  custom  I  answer  in 
like  manner.  As  to  our  gods,  I  really  doubt  if  they 
be  worth  further  recounting.  There  are  Occanus 
and  Tethys,  children  of  earth  and  heaven,  from  whom 
sprang  Phorcys  and  Chronos  and  Rhea,  and  many 
others ;  and  from  Chronos  and  Rhea  sprang  Zeus  and 
Here,  and  their  brethren  and  children ;  and  there  were 
many  others,  as  we  all  know. 

ISocratcs.  I  know  that  you  liave  said  that  Homer 
and  Hesiod,  and  others  of  the  poets  who  catalogue 
the  gods,  iiave  ever  been  the  greatest  story-tellers  of 
mankind,  their  fault  being  that  of  telling  a  lie,  and 
what  is  more,  a  bad  lie,  whenever  a  representation  is 
made  of  the  nature  of  ijods  and  heroes. 

Plato.  Nevertheless,  the  fact  that  the  poets  were 
not  always  trutliful  does  not  prove  that  traditions  are 
fiilse.  What!  understand  to  be  the  modern  doctrine 
of  emanation,  or  a  philosophic  transformation  of  the 
idea  of  an  .original  creation  of  the  world,  which 
makes  the  universe  a  product  of  tlie  divine  nature, 
but  at  the  same  time  a  physical  rather  than  a  moial 
act,  had  its  orit;ia  in  the  east  aijjes  a<>o,  and  difiVrs 
little  from  the  niodern  theory  of  evolution,  though 
somewhat  reversing  the  on^or  of  thinsjfs. 

Socmici^.  Let  us  question  for  a  moment  the  value 
of  tradition,  and  sec;  wliere  the  ancient  maimer  of 
discussion  thereon  will  lead  us.  Whence  comes  tra- 
dition, Plato  I 

Plato.  Answering  after  the  former  method  I 
should  say  from  those  the  gods  first  njade. 

Socrates.  I  notice,  Plato,  in  your  Statesman  you 
i];ive  a  tradition  which  you  say  may  be  proved  by 
internal  evidence. 

Plato.     Yes. 

Socrates.     Had  the  children  of  the  gods  intuitions  ? 

Plato.     Certaiidy. 

Socrates.     And  their  children  had  traditions? 


678 


PLATO  REVISED. 


Plato.     Yes. 

Socrates.     And  we  have  botli? 

Plato.     We  have. 

Socrates.  Then  we  may  prove  tradition  by  intu- 
ition and  intuition  by  tradition? 

Plato.     Tliat  is  the  logical  conclusion. 

Socrates.  The  study  of  evolution  raises  a  doubt  as 
to  the  construction  of  this  world  out  of  nothiiiu-  for 
man's  supremacy.  Where  now  arc  the  gods  of 
Olympus,  and  that  golden  age  of  wisdom  and  happi- 
ness of  which  poets  sang?  In  vain  wo  search  tlin 
by-paths  of  history  ;  no  trace  of  gods  or  demi-gods 
remain.  And  the  one  invisible  God,  creator  of  all, 
has  been  driven  by  science  farther  and  farther  back, 
until  now  he  is  well-nigh  lost  to  us. 

Plato.  The  traditions  of  the  Chinese,  and  other 
nations  called  half  civilized  or  savage,  seem  near  akin 
to  the  truth,  affirming  as  they  do  that  their  prinio- 
gonitors  went  naked,  had  no  fire,  lived  in  caves,  ate 
raw  meat,  and  that  man}^  ages  elaj)sed  before  any 
consciousness  of  their  uncomfortable  state  dawned 
upon  them. 

Socrates.  There  are  the  seen  and  unseen,  the 
apparent  and  ntm-apparent,  the  material  and  tlie 
s|)iritual,  but  all  natural,  each  living  in  the  other,  tlic 
universal  forces  ever  passing  from  one  to  the  other, 
all  cooperative  in  endless  evolution. 

Plato.     So  savs  science. 

Socrates.  To  come  back  to  the  oriirin  of  thiniis. 
You,  Plato,  wlio  were  taught  music,  gynmastics.  and 
literature,  who  essayed  poetry,  and  who  in  pliilosopliv 
sought  the  ideal  rather  than  the  real  and  material, 
investigating  mind  rather  than  matter,  surely  you,  if 
any  one,  should  be  able  to  give  mankind  some  reason- 
able and  apprehensible  cx[)lanation  of  the  source  of 
existing  phenomena. 

Plato.  In  fiithoming  the  mysteries  of  cxistenc(\  (^ 
Socrates,  surely  my  ideal  jihilosophy,  which  plivs 
with  art  and  poetry  and  feeds  on  inborn  conceptions, 


I'LATO  REVISED. 


679 


is  of  no  more  value  than  your  searching  and  dis- 
triniinating  analyses  of  things  and  beliefs,  which  seek 
the  definite  and  certain  as  the  foundation  of  knowl- 
edge. 

Socrates.  In  the  Republic,  and  also  in  the  Laws, 
you  prove,  to  your  own  apparent  satisfaction,  and  in 
the  main  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  people  of  Athens, 
and  all  the  world,  the  existence,  nature,  and  orii^in  of 
the  gods  and  of  the  universe,  how  all  that  is  was 
made,  and  by  whom,  and  endowed  with  soul  and 
immortality;  what  soul  is,  and  mind,  and  matter,  and 
the  rest;  you,  the  profoundest  and  divinest  of  })hil()s- 
ophers,  appearing  in  the  centre  of  the  world's  highest 
culture  ;  you  explained  minutely  all  this,  and  much 
more,  of  which  man  could  know  nothing,  but  which, 
however,  was  largely  believed  by  many,  some  of  your 
speculations  being  entertained  to  this  day  ;  tell  me,  I 
pray  you,  whence  came  your  so-called  vast  knowledge 
of  things  so  far  beyond  the  apprehension  of  the  ordi- 
nary mind  ? 

l*l(ifn.  I  told  you,  Socrates,  from  tradition  and 
intuition. 

Sorrdtcs.  Are  oral  or  written  comnmnications 
deemed  most  reliable  ? 

l*lafn.     Obviously,  written  comnmnications. 

Socrates.  Classify  traditions  as  secular  and  sacred  ; 
v/ould  the  former  prove  mostly  true  or  false  ? 

l^Iato.     In  the  main,  false. 

Socrates.     This  is  proved  by  history  ? 

Plato.     It  is. 

Socrates.  If  the  early  traditions  regarding  the  real 
are  mostly  false,  may  we  not  infer  the  same  or  worse 
in  regard  to  the  fanciful  ? 

Plato.     Yes. 

Socrates.  Then  what  shall  we  say  regarding  the 
thousands  of  conflicting  traditions  ? 

Plato.     Some  of  them  nmst  be  untrue. 

Socrates.  When  we  consider  how  creeds  originate 
and  are  preserved,  expression  born  of  fear  and  expla- 


680 


PLATO  REVISED. 


nation  forced,  heaven's  conviction  falling  from  initagi- 
nation-clouds,  and  breathed  into  the  soul  midst  the 
fervid  feelings  of  unrest,  we  can  see  how  but  a  step  fur- 
ther the  substance  and  shadow  become  one,  tho 
attainment  of  a  good  being  made  to  depend  upon  the 
self-enslavement  of  intellect  and  the  prostitution  of 
reason  to  the  extent  of  willing  a  belief  in  the  exist- 
ence of  that  good.  The  creed  accumulations  of  the 
centuries,  gathered  now  into  books  of  divers  names, 
each  an  abomination  to  the  others,  are  placed  beifore 
the  youths  of  the  various  religions,  all  being  told  to 
believe  their  particular  book  under  penalty  of  the  se- 
verest punishment  a  benignant  deity  can  invent.  They 
nmst  not  question ;  they  must  only  believe.  Later, 
skilled  teachers  explain  away  absurdities,  while  flat 
contradictions  and  impossibilities  are  placed  in  the 
category  of  things  not  at  present  to  be  uiidcrstootl. 
The  works  of  the  creator  are  examined  ;  where  they 
are  good  the  creator  is  praised  ;  where  bad,  the  blame 
is  thrown  on  another  deity  which  omnipotence  cannot 
or  will  not  annihilate.  If  this  be  the  best  method  to 
arrive  at  truth,  why  not  employ  it  in  worldly  affairs, 
Avhere,  if  we  do  not  use  our  reason,  and  trust  ft)r 
results  to  the  knowledge  of  experience,  we  are  justly 
blamed  or  punished  ?  We  nmst  know  and  under- 
stand before  we  can  believe.  Evidence,  based  on 
sense  or  reason,  lies  at  the  foundation  of  all  belief. 
To  repeat  parrot-like  a  fornmla  and  cry  credo  1  is  not 
belief.  And  if  evidence  carries  reason  away  from 
tradition,  let  not  theology  l)e  filled  with  horror,  and 
insult  the  almighty  by  saying  that  savagisms  and 
superstitions  please  him  better  than  the  exercise  of 
that  noblest  of  faculties  found  in  his  creation. 

Plato.  And  what  say  you  with  regard  to  intuition 
Socrates  ?  It  has  been  held  that  as  one  of  the  agen- 
cies through  which  works  the  almighty,  man  should 
pay  heed  to  the  sympathies  voiced  within  him. 

Socrates.  But  these  intuitive  sympathies  which 
many  mistake  for  beliefs  are  nmltiform,  ojiposed  one 


PLATO  REVISED. 


G81 


to  another  like  traditions  ;  how  tlion  oould  they  liavc 
beou  implanted  by  the  same  reasonable  and  all-wise 
beiniT  ? 

Plato.  Does  not  inward  longing  itnply  the  exist- 
ence somewhere  of  the  means  of  gratification  ? 

Socrates.  Have  all  your  intuitions  come  true, 
Plat.»? 

Plato.     Bv  no  means. 

Socrates.  If,  then,  intuitions  are  not  a  sure  guide, 
of  what  value  are  they  '{ 

Plato.  To  what  end,  then,  are  intuitions  im- 
planted ? 

Socrates.  What  essence  is  to  generation,  truth  is  to 
belief  These  are  your  own  words,  O  Plato,  put 
into  the  mouth  of  Tinueus  twenty-three  hundred 
years  ago. 

Plato.  In  treating  of  things  beyond  the  domain  of 
the  absolute,  we  can  only  speak  according  to  our 
enlightenment. 

Socrates,  Have  we  any  enlightenment  whatever 
regarding  things  beyond  the  domain  of  the  absolute  ! 
As  the  author  of  all,  one  refers  us  to  the  fiat  of  an 
extra-natural  creator ;  another  to  mechanical  action 
in  pre-existing  atoms ;  another  to  an  eternal  functi(>n 
or  potency  of  the  universe.  The  first  hypothesis 
assumes  something  to  have  l)cen  made  from  nothing  ; 
the  last  two  may  be  called  one  ;  none  of  them  begin 
at  the  beginning,  the  existence  of  the  extra-natural 
creator,  the  pre-existing  atoms  and  the  etornal 
potency  all  having  to  be  accounted  for.  What  have 
you  to  say  to  the  first? 

Plato.  There  is  nothing  to  be  said.  That  which 
is  made  from  nothing  is  nothing,  and  all  reasoning  on 
it  begins  and  ends  in  nothing. 

S()Grates.  Such  a  tlieory  assumes  in  the  beginning 
a  universal  nothing,  or  at  least  a  dead  universe,  God 
alojio  having  life,  his  first  creation  being  lifeless.  It 
is  a  theology  of  automatic  emotion  based  on  illogical 
phenomena,  in  the  discussion  of  which  the   premises 


'1 


III 


I 


682 


PLATO  REVLSED. 


aretaken  from  tradition  and  not  from  reason.  Nature, 
on  the  other  hand,  points  ;;o  hfe  as  an  essential  faculty 
of  the  universe.  You  may  choose  for  yourself  which 
is  the  more  rational  hypothesis. 

Plato.  If  nature  is  not  God,  it  is  wonderful  how 
like  a  God  she  works,  moving  ever  on  with  infinite 
patience  in  lines  intelligent  for  definite  ends.  Hun- 
dreds of  millions  of  years  were  occupied  by  nature 
in  making  man. 

tSocratcs.  Then  how  long  does  it  take  this  same  pro- 
tean power  to  make  of  man  a  god  ? 

Plato.  They  say  now  that  the  earlier  gods  were 
but  the  ghosts  of  dead  heroes. 

Socrates.  SayH  the  Veda  :  Who  knows  exactly  and 
who  shall  in  this  world  declare  whence  and  why  tliis 
creation  took  place  ?  The  gods  are  subsequent  to  tlio 
production  of  this  world.  Then  who  can  kiiow 
whence  it  proceeded  or  whence  this  varied  world 
arose,  or  whether  it  uphold  itself  or  not  ?  Immature 
in  understanding,  the  Hindoo  poet  sings,  undiscerning 
in  Uiind,  I  inquire  of  tliose  things  which  are  hidden 
even  from  the  gods,  what  are  the  seven  threads  whicli 
the  sages  have  spread  to  envelop  the  sun,  in  whom  all 
abide.  Yet  we  are  here  assured  that  once  there  was 
nothing,  vacuity  absolute — no  world  or  sky  or  aught 
above  it,  nor  water  deep  or  dangerous. 

Plato.  Nevertheless,  while  the  Hindoos  worship 
the  sun,  fire,  and  lightning,  not  as  superior  beings  but 
as  agencies  to  be  propitiated,  and  because  their  assist- 
ance is  w^anted  against  enemies,  Brahma,  in  tluir 
religion  and  philosophy,  signifies  the  universal  s[>iiit, 
an  eternal  self-existent  beinij,  the  <>r()und  and  cause 
of  all  existence  ;  not  so  nmch,  however,  a  deity  to  be 
worshipped  as  an  object  of  co!itemi>lation. 

Socrates.  Vishnu  is  one  of  the  forms  of  the  sun. 
The  Chaldeans  worshipped  the  heavenly  bodies;  tlw 
gods  of  the  Parsees,  Ormuzd  and  Ahrihian,  evolv((l 
themselves  out  of  primordial  matter,  while  out  of  a 


PLATO  REVISED. 


683 


cosmic  egg  issued  the  Egyptian  god,  Phta,  who  cre- 
ated the  world. 

Flato.  But  with  these  same  Egyptians  worsliip 
became  chronic ;  for,  not  content  with  a  god  for 
every  day  in  the  year,  they  nmst  needs  resort  tt)  the 
worships  of  the  cat,  the  dog,  ibis,  and  hawk. 

Socrates.  We  know  that  among  the  world's  theolo- 
gies, savage  and  civilized,  there  have  been  hundreds 
of  theories  of  the  origin  of  things,  one  as  good,  or  as 
bad,  as  another.  But,  let  us  call  matter  created,  or  at 
all  events  existing,  whence  comes  intellect  ?  Or,  as  the 
Hindoo  poet  asks.  From  the  earth  are  the  breath  and 
blood,  but  where  is  the  soul  ? 

Plato.  If  we  are  ready,  O  Socrates,  to  accept  the 
answer  to  that  question  of  modern  science,  it  i.s  this: 
Mind  exists  in  matter,  has  alwavs  directed  matter  ; 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  mindless  life-stuft".  Every 
form  of  life  involves  sensation,  which  is  the  basis  of 
all  knowing.  Throughout  the  long  journey  from  pro- 
toplasm to  man,  from  the  carbonic  acid,  water,  and 
ammonia,  in  whose  conjunction  first  appears  the  [the- 
nomcnon  of  life,  to  mind,  and  that  intelligence  wliich 
apprehends  itself,  there  is  no  break,  no  new  develop- 
ing agency  appearing,  no  now  factor  of  evolution 
introduced.  AH  organic  life  thus  evolving  from  tie 
[)rimordial  protoplasmic  cell  fulls  into  co-related  and 
classifiable  groups,  assuming  sentience  and  heredity, 
and  proceeds  from  the  simple  and  phj'sical  to  the 
complex  and  ethical,  until  the  monad  becomes  tlie 
animal  who  thinks  arjd  reasons. 

Socrates.  Of  all  the  millions  of  deities  creatt  d  for 
the  confusion  of  man,  how  many  have  evaporated  1 
And  yet  enough  remain,  and  more  than  enough. 

Plato.  In  searching  among  the  forces  luhind 
events  for  a  cause  of  causes,  monotheisn)  and  the 
unity  of  nature  and  mankind  were  invented,  the  deity 
being  still  apart  from,  and  above,  nature. 

Socrates.     And  after  nKmotheism  ? 

Plato.    After  monotheism,  Socrates,  atheism,  which 


684 


PLATO  REVISED. 


ill  my  Laws  is  set  forth  as  a  disease  of  tlie  soul  before 
it  becomes  an  error  of  the  understaiidino-. 

Socrates.  You,  O  Crito,  and  you,  Pliasdo,  Apollo- 
dorus,  and  Evenus,  have  been  abroad  somewhat,  and 
should  have  gathered  knowledge;  tell  me,  I  pray 
you,  about  what  are  men  now  most  concerned  ? 

Crito.     As  always,  power. 

Socrates.  What  would  they  with  power?  Thereby 
to  eat  better,  to  sleep  better,  the  better  to  study  the 
ways  of  wisdom  and  lead  mankind  heavenward 
through  happier,  holier  paths? 

Crito.  Not  so.  The  gods  claim  all  rights  to  such 
dispensations.  Men  ape  the  gods  and  fawn  upon 
them,  scrambling  among  themselves  to  gather  the 
fallen  crumbs  of  deity,  that  they  too,  like  the  omnii)- 
otent  ones,  may  lord  it  over  their  fellows,  make  slaves 
and  concubines  out  of  good  human  flesh,  and  riot  in 
worshii)ful  wealth,  until  death  takes  pity  on  the  earth 
and  thrusts  them  under. 

Socrates.     And  then?  Have  men  now  no  reli'j;ions? 

Crito.  Yes,  truly,  plenty  of  them,  and  some  very 
jjrood  ones.  Indeed,  religion  still  holds  the  human 
race  bound  in  iron  fetters;  beliefs  of  all  qualities  and 
grades,  from  the  crude  conceptions  of  savagisin  to 
the  more  refined  and  involved  theologies  of  civiliza- 
tion, the  latter,  however,  graduall}'^  fading  in  the 
more  intellectual  quarters  before  the  lights  of  advanc- 
ing reason  and  natural  science. 

Socrates.  Has  philosophy  done  nothing  for  human- 
ity ?    Are  men  no  better  tlian  they  were  ? 

Crito.  Outwardly,  yes;  inwardlv;  no.  Notwith- 
standing the  vast  period  and  endless  processes 
employed  in  its  becoming,  human  nature  appears  to 
be  a  definite  quantity,  as  fixed  and  immutable  as 
any  primary  element.  Men's  natures  are  as  treach- 
erous, their  instincts  as  brutal,  and  their  hearts  as 
immoral  as  ever ;  only  by  a  cunning  use  of  the  arts 
of  refinement  they  are  not  so  grossly  apparent.    Thou 


tn 


PLATO  REVISED. 


68,-. 


well  knowcst,  O  Socrates,  that  civilization  creates 
nothing,  but  only  refines. 

Socrates.     Are  the  gods  no  better  than  they  were  ? 

Crito.  In  the  great  race  of  progress  the  gods 
scarcely  keep  pace  with  their  human  subjects.  I 
have  heard  you  say,  my  master,  that  the  worst  of  all 
evils  is  belief  in  a  bad  god,  and  now  I  almost  ques- 
tion if  there  has  ever  been  a  good  god. 

Apollodorus.  And  I  note  that  very  many  about 
the  world  begin  to  question  if  ever  there  was  a  god 
at  all,  never  one  of  any  age  or  nation  upon  good 
authority  having  been  seen,  or  heard,  or  felt.  Think 
you,  O  Socrates,  that  the  world  can  exist  with- 
out gods  ? 

Socrates.  Gods  are  but  human  ideals  projected 
upon  the  infinite  unknown,  and  theologies  take  color 
and  character  from  the  time  and  place  of  their  origi- 
natinir.  And  all  must  change  ;  all  that  is  must  cease 
to  be,  men,  nations,  and  religions. 

PJnrdo.  And  it  would  seem,  further,  that  in  this 
world  man  was  becoming  more  and  more  master — 
master  of  himself  and  his  environment,  moral  and 
physical,  master  of  his  beliefs,  mind  dominating  mat- 
ter and  reason  supplanting  ritualism. 

Socrates.  Ah  1  then  the  g<ids  indeed  have  had  to 
go  to  the  wall. 

Crito.  Thousands  of  them  have  been  driven  to  the 
wall,  and  other  thousands  hurled  over  it ;  and  yet  the 
world  lies  bound,  as  I  said,  fiftv  millions  of  so-called 
teachers  being  still  occupied  in  perpetuating  the  false- 
hoods of  the  past. 

ApoUodorus.  Critias  sa^^s  that  man  was  once  law- 
less and  beast-like,  the  slave  of  force,  paying  no  heed 
to  the  good  or  bad  ;  wherefore  a  wise  man  arose,  and 
the  deity  was  made,  with  thunder  and  lightning  at 
his  command,  that  terror  might  be  employed. 

Socrates.  Men  make  their  gods  upon  their  own 
pattern ;  they  have  no  other.  They  endow  them 
with  their  own  qualities,  good  and  bad,  but  in  a  mag- 


688 


PLATO  REVISED. 


In 
III 


nified  deirree.  The  gods  of  savatje  races  are  as  wild 
and  uncouth,  as  cruel  and  groveling,  as  themselves. 
The  gods  of  civilization  are  nevur  above  but  always 
below  the  standards  of  niorality  and  equity  set  up  by 
the  people.  While  pretending  to  superhuman  justice 
and  benevolence,  they  are  licensed  to  indulge  in  all 
the  wickedness  which  men  denv  themselves,  such  as 
vengeance,  rol^bery,  tyranny,  and  every  species  of  cru- 
elty and  injustice. 

("riio.  When  we  consider  the  spontaneity  of  evo- 
lution, and  the  uniformity  in  many  particulars  of  the 
independent  generation  of  ideas,  customs,  and  con- 
trivances in  widely  separated  parts  of  the  world,  all 
under  pressure  of  similar  engendering  causes  and  ct)M- 
ditions,  it  is  not  difficult  to  see  how  t^ods  are  made. 
Thus  the  Mayas,  Germans,  and  Chinese,  each  invent(  d 
the  printing  press  ;  Mexicans,  Peruvians,  Egyptians, 
and  Chinese,  each  unknown  to  the  other  made  bronze  ; 
and  Zoroaster,  Confucius,  and  Christ  in  like  manner 
promulgated  the  golden  rule. 

Eveivxs.  There  is  but  one  true  religion,  one  cor- 
rect code  of  ethics. 

Cr'do.     That  is  what  they  all  say. 

Evcnus.  You  surely  would  not  class  the  religions 
of  savagism  and  barbarism  with  that  of  the  hiiihest 
civilization  and  intelligence  ? 

Crito.  Intelligence  has  nothing  to  do  with  it ;  it  is 
from  lack  of  intelligence  that  religions  are  first  made. 

PJuvdo.  The  barbaric  days  of  dogmatic  theology 
are  passing  away.  Barbaric  nations  make  their  gods 
of  wood  and  stone;  civilized  nations  carve  theirs  out  of 
the  imagination,  and  for  evervthing  that  civilization 
and  science  does  for  them  they  thank  their  ideal  deity. 

ApoUodorus.  The  gods  of  Egypt  have  been  whoily 
subject  to  the  manufacture  and  manipulation  of  the 
priests  from  the  beginning,  while  the  minds  of  the 
millions  subject  to  their  sway  have  been  as  stolid  as 
stones. 

Pliwdo,     The  cure  of  being  is  not  to  be,  pays  the 


PLATO  REVISED. 


(537 


Buddha  ;  existonco  is  tlic  sum  of  all  evil,  birth  tlio 
oriijiii.  Had  wo  never  been  born  we  had  not  known 
misery,  old  age,  and  death. 

Apollodorus.  It  would  scarcely  seem  to  demand, 
Phsedo,  the  perfect  contemplation  of  Sakya-muni  to 
attain  the  summit  of  wisdom  and  enlightenment  of 
which  you  speak. 

Pfuedo.  The  Brahmins  taught  the  doctrine  of  a 
single  invisible  supreme  being,  an  onmipotent,  onnii- 
scent  creator,  preserver,  and  destroyer  of  all,  who  was 
the  soul  of  the  universe,  or  the  universe  itself,  and 
who  manifested  himself  in  three  forms,  Brahma  the 
creator,  Vishnu  the  preserver,  and  Siva  the  destroyer. 
Zoroaster  tried  at  first  a  single  supreme  god,  but  it 
was  finallj'^  found  necessary  to  divide  it  in  order  to 
represent  the  two  principles  of  good  and  evil,  to 
which  the  names  of  Ormuzd  and  Ahriman  were 
given 

Apollodorus.  Confucianism  contains  no  trace  of  a 
personal  god,  no  attempt  of  a  creation  out  of  nothing, 
the  idea  in  this  respect  varyitig  little  from  the  auima 
mnndf  of  the  classical  philosophy ;  good  and  evil  are 
found  existing:,  and  the  life  of  the  religious  devoted  to 
promoting  the  one  and  extinguishing  the  other,  with 
little  concern  as  to  their  origin  or  nature.  "  To  what 
sublime  religion  do  you  belong  ?"  asks  one  of  another 
in  China,  where  three  great  systems  exist  peaceably 
side  bv  side  ;  and  the  answer  comes,  "  Religions  are 
many  ;    reason  is  one  ;  we  are  all  brothers." 

P/i.Tdo.  True,  Ajiollodorus,  and  the  Chinese 
threaten  their  gods  witli  deposition,  one  if  he  fails  to 
give  them  victory  in  war,  another  if  he  fails  to  send 
rain ;  the  super-civilized  thank  God  for  success  in 
war,  and  importune  him  for  rain  when  desired. 
Wherein  lies  the  diiference,  unless  it  be  that  the 
Chinese  way  has  less  of  aV)3urdity  in  it  than  tlic  other  ? 

Apollodonis.  Civilization  not  only  threatens  depo- 
sition but  deposes,  many  of  the  best  and  wisest  men 
every  day  emerging  from  the  clouds  of  superstition. 


I'-M 


;*.'!  f 


iT 


688 


PLATO    REVISED. 


Crito.  There  are  to  be  accounted  for  the  origin 
and  existence  of  God,  of  chaos,  and  of  man  ;  was  man 
or  cliaos  first  ? 

Apollodorus.  Man,  he  being  a  product  of  the  ele- 
ments. 

Crito.     Who  made  the  elements  ? 

Apollodorus.     The  gods. 

Crito.     Who  made  the  gods  ? 

Apollodorus.     Man,  they  now  say. 

Crito.  Man  made  the  gods  ;  the  gods  made  the 
elements  ;  man  is  a  product  of  the  elements  ;  there- 
fore man  made  himself. 

Apollodorus.  As  well  so  as  that  the  gods  made 
themselves. 

Plta'do.  You  are  nearer  the  truth,  my  friends,  than 
you  yourselves  imagine.  Man  makes  not  only  his 
own  gods  but  himself  He  has  had  to  physically 
fashion  himself,  working  his  way  outward  and  upward 
from  the  protoplasmic  cell  through  millions  of  ages, 
improving  form  and  features,  making  his  tools,  cus- 
toms, beliefs,  literature,  arts,  and  the  rest,  adding  on 
the  way  organs  and  accomplishments,  one  after 
another,  until  from  atoms  and  force  he  becomes  body 
and  mind. 


Socrates.  In  your  Republic,  Plato,  you  make  God, 
that  is  to  say,  Zeus,  a  being  unchangeable,  and  not 
the  author  of  all  things,  as  the  many  assert,  but  of  a 
few  things,  of  the  good  only ;  for  few  are  the  goods 
and  many  the  evils  of  life.  As  to  variableness  he  is 
no  Proteus,  no  magician,  dect^ving  us  by  appearing 
now  in  one  shape  and  now  in  another ;  God  is  simple 
and  true  in  both  word  and  deed.  In  knowledge  he  is 
absolute,  as  we  find  in  the  Parmenides.  In  the  Laws 
you  say  that  God  governs  all  things,  and  that  chance 
and  opportunity  cooperate  with  him ;  but  design 
takes  part  with  them,  for  there  is  advantage  in  having 
a  pilot  in  a  storm. 

Plato.     I  have  so  said. 


VLA^O  REVISED. 


Socrate.9.  You  cause  TinicBus  to  say  that  notlun*; 
can  exist  without  having  been  created,  and  nothing; 
can  be  created  without  a  cause,  and  tiiat  of  which  tli<! 
|>erfect  artificer  works  out  the  form  and  nature  after 
an  unchant^eable  pattern  must  of  necessity  be  made 
fair  and  perfect.  This  world,  the  product  of  a  cause,  is 
the  fairest  work  of  creation,  and  the  creator  only  good. 

Plato.     True. 

Hncrates.  Itistead  of  imputing  evil  to  God,  the 
supreme  creator,  or  making  him  the  author  of  evil,  or 
opposing  to  him  a  devil,  you  commit  the  lesser  or 
lower  works  of  creation  to  inferior  deities,  and  fasten 
on  tliem  the  many  faults  of  creation.  From  the  evil 
inherent  in  matter,  and  which  he  cannot  annihilate, 
God  detaches  himself,  that  he  may  be  forever  guiltless. 

Plato.     You  state  my  views  correctly,  Socrates. 

Socrates.  Do  I  ujiderstand  you  to  say  that  God 
first  made  all,  worlds  and  gods  and  men,  but  that  in 
finishing  off  his  work  he  employed  the  inferior  deities 
to  assist  him,  and  that  these  subordinates  spoiled  some 
of  his  work,  intermixing  evil  therewith  ? 

Plato.     It  must  have  been  so  in  a  measure. 

Socrates.  You  say  further,  Plato,  that  God  is  the 
author  of  your  laws — that  is  Zeus  in  Greece  and 
Apollo  in  Lacedsemon. 

Plato.     Yes. 

Socrates.     Yet  they  are  made  by  men. 

Plato.  They  are  made  by  men,  yet  all  declared 
good,  and  of  divine  origin. 

Socrates.  Are  gods  thus  made  and  declared  good 
and  of  divine  origin  ? 

Plato.  It  may  be  so  sometimes,  though  I  know  of 
no  such  cases. 

Socrates.  If  all  laws  and  all  gods  were  so  made, 
and  so  declared  divine  and  gooci,  and  some  of  them 
proved  to  be  bad,  would  those  latter  be  good  or  bad  ? 

Plato.     What  are  you  aiming  at,  Socrates  ? 

Socrates.     There  are  bad  gods  as  there  are  bad  laws. 

Plato.     Yes. 

Essays  and  Miscellany    44 


I 


m     HH 


690 


PLATO  REVISED. 


Socrates.  Yet  all  laws,  whether  good  or  bad,  you 
declare  good  and  divine. 

Plato.^^  Yes. 

Socrates.     There  are  some  bad  gods. 

Plato.     Yes. 

Socrates.  Yet  men  must  declare  them  good  and 
divine. 

Plato.     I  suppose  so. 

Socrates.     To  do  otherwise  would  be  sacrilege. 

Plato.     Yes. 

Socrates.  Then  your  lavv  compels  men  to  declare 
to  be  true  what  they  know  to  be  false. 

Plato.  Is  it  not  so  in  all  religions,  if  the  people  aro 
capable  in  any  wise  of  distinguishing  truth  from 
error?  Every  religion  is  nihilistic,  admitting  tlic 
creator's  work  imperfect,  and  lapsing  into  fatalism, 
involving  moral  failure. 

Socrates.  In  your  Laws,  Plato,  you  say  that  no 
one  ev(ir  intentionally  did  any  unholy  act,  or  uttcrt'd 
any  unlawful  word,  retaining  a  belief  in  the  existence 
of  the  gods. 

Plato.     That  is  true. 

Socrates.  Lot  me  ask  you,  Plato,  has  there  ever 
lived  in  this  world,  fnjm  first  to  last,  one  wjio  Ikis 
never  spoken  an  unlawful  word  or  committed  an 
unholy  act? 

l^lato.  I  said  not  intentionally,  if  he  retained  a 
belief  in  the  existence  of  the  gods. 

Socrates.  May  not  the  wicked  believe  in  the  exist- 
ence of  the  gods  and  yet  hate  them  ? 

Plato.     That  is  probable. 

Socrates.  Else  what  avail  reviling  and  cursing,  if 
spent  on  nothingness — that  is  on  beings  whose  exist- 
ence is  denied  ? 

Plato.     The  idea  is  absurd,  of  course. 

Socrates.  That  is  that  one  can  intentionally  speak 
against  the  gods  who  docs  not  believe  in  their 
existence  ? 

Plato.     Yes. 


PLATO  KEVLSED. 


COl 


Socrates.  But  you  say  tliat  no  one  can  intentionally 
speak  against  the  gods  and  yet  believe  in  their 
existence  ? 

Plato.     I  have  so  stated. 

Socrates.  Now,  in  regard  to  the  unholy  acts,  is  it 
not  the  same;  may  not  the  wicked,  believing  in  the 
gods,  still  defy  and  fight  against  them  ? 

Pluto.     Yes. 

Socrates.  Then  it  would  seem  that  men  mav  inton- 
tionally  commit  unlioly  acts  and  s[)oak  unlawful 
words,  retainin<>'  a  beliet'  in  the  existence  of  the  ffods. 

Plato.     It  must  be  so. 

Socrates.  Did  you  not  affirm  at  Athens,  O  Plato, 
that  (lod  could  not  be  the  author  of  all  without  beimj 
the  author  of  evil  ? 

Plato.     Any  child  may  see  that. 

Socrates.     And  that  he  was  not  the  author  of  evil  ? 

Plato.     Yes. 

Socrates.  And  therefore  that  he  was  not  the 
author  of  all  ? 

J^lato.     Certainlv. 

Socrates.  And  yet  you  make  God  the  sole  and 
only  creator,  but  not  the  autlior  of  evil. 

Plato.  I  have  said  in  my  Kepublic  that  God  is  the 
author  of  evil  only  with  a  view  to  good. 

Socrates.  Then  jou  admit  that  God  made,  sanctions, 
and  employs  evil  ? 

Plato.     Ordv  with  a  view  to  good. 

Socrates.     Mny  not  man  do  what  God  does? 

Plato.     Certainlv,  if  lie  can, 

Socrates.  Is  it  not  ri^lit  for  n^.an  to  do  as  God  does 
if  he  can  ? 

Plato.     It  is  so  commanded  him. 

Socrates.  Then  man  may  do  evil  with  a  view  to  do 
good  ? 

Plato.     He  may. 

Socratc       Man  being  the  judge  ? 

Plato.     Yes. 

Socrates.     Then  you  endow  man  with  the  right  at 


<;ii2 


PLATO   REVISKD. 


his  discretion  to  indult^o  in  murder,  robbery,  cruolty, 
injustice,  and  every  crime. 

l*l(ito.     That  cannot  bo. 

Socrafcfi.  To  repeat  what  I  have  just  said;  God  is 
the  author  of  all  tlungs  i 

I*lafn.     It  has  been  so  believed. 

Socrates.     And  yet  not  of  all  but  only  of  the  good  ? 

Plato.     Only  f)f  the  good. 

Socratr.'i.     He  is  not  tlie  author  of  evil  ? 

Plato.     It  were  sacrilege  so  to  say. 

Socrates.  He  is  the  author  of  all  good,  and  of  good 
oidy? 

i'lato.     Yes. 

Socrates.  In  the  beginning  were  only  the  great 
artificer  and  chaos  ? 

Plato.     Nothing  else. 

Socrates.     And  out  of  chaos  God  created  all  ? 

Plato.     Yes. 

Socrates.     But  he  did  not  create  evil  ? 

Plato.      He  did  not. 

Socrates.     Who  then  is  the  author  of  evil  ? 

Plato.     The  inferior  gods. 

Socrates.     Who  made  the  inferior  gods? 

Plato.  Thus  spoke  the  great  artificer,  as  it  is  written 
in  the  Tima3us,  the  creation  l)eiiig  finished  :  (JukIa  and 
sons  of  gods,  who  are  my  works,  and  of  whom  I  am 
the  artificer  and  father,  my  creations  are  indissoluhlr 
if  so  I  will ;  all  that  is  bound  may  be  dissolved,  but 
only  an  evil  being  would  wish  to  dissolve  that  which 
is  harmonious  and  happy. 

Socrates.  But  if  God  makes  the  gods  who  mixkr 
evil,  is  not  that  makinir  evil  ?  And  if  God  makes  evil 
how  can  he  be  only  the  author  of  good  ? 

riato.  Evil  came  and  God  permits  it  that  in  tlif 
resisting  thereof  m?n  mav  become  stronger. 

Socrates.  Either  God  created  all  or  he  did  not ;  it" 
not,  then  is  he  not  the  sole  creator,  and  the  mono- 
theistic idea  must  be  discarded  ;  if  being  sole  creatni. 
and    omnipotent,     and  he  permits     evil     to     conn' 


PLATO  REVISED. 


693 


and  to  exist,  then  clearly  he  is  the  author 
atid  sustainer  of  evil.  Again,  if  evil  is  neces- 
sary for  the  growth  of  good,  then  evil  is  not  evil  but 
good. 

Pluedo.  Every  religion  revolves  on  its  own  axis, 
moves  in  its  own  orbit,  and  ends  where  it  begins. 

Socrates.  If  good  is  one  with  knowledge  and  God, 
why  not  evil  as  well,  since  evil  is  as  much  the  essence 
of  things  as  good  ? 

Grito.  Still  your  interminal)lc  discussion,  O  Socrates, 
on  good  and  evil,  and  you  have  not  yet  even  defined 
your  conception  of  the  meaning  of  the  terms. 

Socrafes.  Everybody  knows  that  good  and  evil  are 
sometimes  absolute  thougli  often  relative  terms;  tliat 
which  in  one  time,  place,  and  degree  is  good  may  in 

)ther  be  evil. 

Plato.  Just  as  there  are  good  men,  vet  not  worthv 
of  eternal  happiness,  so  there  are  bad  men  not  worthy 
of  eternal  danmation. 

Socrafrs.  (Jlood,  its  origin  and  essence,  man  seems 
able  to  explain  to  his  a[>parent  satisfaction  better 
tluin  evil.  You  say  that  good  is  God.  Very  well. 
Account  for  God  and  you  account  for  good. 

Crlto.  In  other  words,  to  make  the  inter})retation 
more  modern,  evil  is  that  which  is  o[)posed  to  tlie 
harmony  and  happiness  of  the  universe,  as  convulsions 
of  naturo.  suffering,  injustice.  Evil  originates  all 
religions,  evil,  and  fear,  for  if  there  were  no  evil  there 
would  bn  a«  ohing  to  fear,  and  no  incentive  to  worshij). 

Pirj!-K  Think  vou,  Crito,  that  men  would  not 
worsMp  <  V.d  through  love  alone  \ 

Crito.  .^^.  .  Unless  lashed  to  it  by  fear,  m(>n 
would  not  worship  ;  fear  is  the  foundation  i)f  celestial 
love,  fear  and  favor.  CJive  us  the  good  and  stay  the 
evil  is  the  burden  of  all  [)rayer.  Upon  this  dualism 
rest  all   religions. 

Plui'do.  True  ;  in  the  ex])lanatlon  which  the  defects 
of  cr  ation  at  the  hand  of  a  benefic(>nt  creator,  absolute 
in  ?"  .i,cr,  will    demand,   the    dogma   of  dualism   was 


'  1  ' 


m 


<  m 


m 


V.  1 


&M 


PLATO  REVISED. 


resorted  to  by  the  early  aryaii  religion,  which  had  two 
su[)reiiie  gods,  Orinuzd  and  Ahriman,  one  good  and 
the  other  evil,  while,  later,  less  logical  religions  threw 
thi^  evil  upon  a  subordinate  spirit  in  rebellion  against 
omnipotence. 

Crifo.  Then  there  is  the  dualistic  idea  of  evolu- 
tion, which  refers  the  physical  to  the  inorganic  world 
and  the  mental  toman,  and  the  monistic,  which  makes 
mind  only  a  manifestation  o?  matter. 

Phinlo.  A  perfect  creation  nmst  follow  as  the  work 
of  a  perfect  creator,  and  a  perfect  creation  admits 
of  neither  r  Progression  nor  progress.  Nor  will  the 
hypothesis  h  1  '  it  fallen  man  was  originally  per- 
fectlv  created  :  ;  unless  the  seeds  of  sin  and  rebellion 
had  been  ini[)lanted  by  the  creator,  it  were  not  possible 
for  the  perfect  man  to  fall. 

Crlto.  Unless  they  first  change  his  character  and 
make  him  a  different  being  from  what  they  claim  he 
is,  man  should  not  say  that  God  is  love,  any  more  than 
that  (lod  is  hate  ;  or  that  whatever  he  does  is  right  ; 
whatever  he  wills  or  permits  is  wise,  just,  and  benefi- 
cent; for  this  makes  ignorance,  cruelty,  wrong, 
injustice,  and  inmiorality  right,  being  God's  will  and 
suffered  by  him  to  exist.  Of  the  three  innocent 
children  of  a  devoted  mother,  two  of  t'^marc  burned 
to  death  by  fever,  but  a  merciful  providence  spares  her 
one,  the  same  merciful  providence  that  burned  the 
other  two. 

PJuvih.  Ill  nothinij  is  civilization  so  backward  as 
in  its  religions.  IMen  endowed  with  reason  and  intelli- 
gence sh(,>uld  be  ashamed  of  their  crude  and  illogical 
conceptions  of  the  deity.  This  deity  his  votaries 
make  the  creator  of  all  realities  and  ideas,  of  all 
ethics  and  moralities,  on  whose  fiat  alone  rest 
right  and  wrong,  good  and  evil,  righteousness  and 
ini(juity,  who  is  above  all  reason  and  common  sense, 
above  all  equities  and  moralities,  author  of  all  good 
and  all  evil,  responsible  for  all  hajipiness  and  unha))- 
I)iness,  for  all  misery  and  crime,  and  all  cruelties  and 


|i 


PLATO  REVISED. 


606 


and 

ent 

fiicd 

licr 

the 


injustice  in  wliicli  tlio  universe  iibountls.  Of  man 
tlieso  same  votaries  make  an  imperfectly  created 
beiniij,  condenmcd  bv  his  maker  as  a  failure,  a  tliinij 
altoLiether  vile  and  alxMninable,  a  fallen  bcinij,  alien  to 
all  oood,  but  who,  throULjh  the  mediation  of  another, 
is  forgiven  for  what  he  was  in  nowise  to  blame,  and 
ordered  to  a  perfect  course  such  as  was  never  yet 
acliievcd  by  any  god  or  man.  As  compared  with 
their  state  of  advancement  no  nation  of  anti(]uity  can 
boast  a  theology  so  barbarous  and  absurd. 

Crito.  How,  then,  reconcih^  any  theory  of  the 
origin  of  evil  with  the  doctrine  of  a  sole  and  absolute 
creator,  omnipotent  onmiscient,  just  and  holy  and 
good  ? 

rih'cdo.  They  never  have  Ixcn  and  never  can  be  rec- 
onciled. Argue  around  the  circle  as  many  times  as  you 
will,  and  you  reach  always  the  same  conclusion — that 
if  evil  exists,  its  origin  is  in  the  sole  creator,  who,  if 
ho  is  not  the  author  of  evil,  is  not  the  autlior  of  all 
things;  and,  if  the  author  of  evil,  is  not  all-perfect, 
all-wise,  and  good,  as  claimed. 

Crito.  Some  have  held  that  without  the  dual- 
istic  principle  in  ethics  there  could  bo  no  real  individ- 
uality or  strength  of  character ;  tiiat,  as  in  nature, 
wc  {icQ  working  in  harmony  and  jxiwht  op[)osing 
forces,  as  attraction  and  repulsion,  heat  and  cold,  i)osi- 
tivc  and  negative  electricity,  so  in  humanity,  moral 
stamina  and  growth  re(juire  tlie  interaction  of  the 
opposing  influences  of  good  and  evil.  Kthicjd  [Hilar- 
ity is  essential  to  mor;d  and  intellectual  well-being. 
Without  evil  there  could  be  no  good,  without  misery 
no  ha[)piness. 

A})()llodorus.  To  that  I  should  answer  that  it 
depends  upon  one's  conci'i>ti()n  of  the  nature  and  power 
of  the  creator.  An  all-wise  and  all-poweiful  cretitor 
can  do  anything,  else  he  is  not  all-wise  and  all-jiower- 
ful.  Is  not  God  good  ?  Is  he  not  happy  ?  Was  it 
necessary,  in  order  for  him  to  attain  his  holy  est..te, 
to  undergo  this  dualistic  influence  ?    And  if  he  exists, 


ills 


006 


PLATO  REVISED. 


liaving  in  his  nature  all  the  attributes  of  good  and 
none  of  the  attributes  of  evil,  being  almighty,  could 
he  not  have  endowed  this  image  of  himself,  which  he 
made  and  called  man,  with  his  own  perfect  qualities 
in  every  respect?  God  is  perfect.  Could  iie  not 
have  made  man  perfect,  without  limitation,  without 
the  necessity  of  internal  conflict  with  opposing  forces, 
all  implanted  by  the  sole  creator,  who  gives  the  victory 
to  whom  he  will  ? 

Socrates.  You  say,  Plato,  that  God,  the  great 
artificer,  is  a  good  and  perfect  being,  and  created 
only  what  is  good  and  perfect  ? 

Plato.     Yes. 

Socrates.  Let  us  examine  some  of  his  work — the 
first  man  he  made,  for  exami)le.  Call  him  Adam,  if 
you  do  not  object  to  the  Hebrew  doctrine  ;  if  you 
do,  the  Olympian  deities  will  answer,  of  whom  we 
shall  speak  presently. 

I^lafo.  We  will  accept  Adam  and  God,  whoever 
they  were,  as  terms  signifying  the  first  man  and  the 
creator  of  the  universe. 

Socrates.  Very  well.  Was  Adam  created  a  savage 
or  a  civilized  man  ? 

J*(ato.     He  w.-s  certainly  not  civilized. 

Socrates.  At  all  events,  he  was  pure  and  holy  and 
perfect,  being  fresh  from  the  hand  of  a  pure  and  holy 
and  perfect  creator. 

Plato.     It  could  not  be  otherwise. 

Sorrates.  But  he  fell  from  his  high  and  happy 
estate  ? 

Plato.     Yes. 

Socrates.     How  came  he  to  so  fall  ? 

Plato.  Either  through  the  agency  of  inferior  deities 
or  through  his  own  indiscretion,  the  fall  in  either  case 
resulting  from  the  seeds  of  sin  implanted  in  his  nature. 

Socrates.  This  Adam  was  created  perfect,  it  is 
alleged ;  but,   on  entering  the  experiment  of  exist- 


PLATO  REVLSED. 


697 


enco,  his  course  proved  iinpurfoct.  Could  a  i)crfectly 
created  inachiuc,  when  set  in  niution,  run  imperfectly? 

Plato.     Clearly  not. 

Socrates.  Can  a  true  religion  promulgate  false 
ideas  of  nature  ? 

Plato.     It  cannot. 

Hocratcs.  Again,  the  perfect  type  of  an  absolute 
final  cause,  created  in  the  inia<jje  of  and  i'^rthe  olorv 
of  its  maker,  should  be,  one  would  think,  the  best  of 
its  kind — a  Thales  of  Miletus,  a  Buddha,  or  a  Christ 
— instead  of  which  we  have  an  exceedinulv  weak 
specimen,  a  vertebrate  mammal,  with  (»rgans  and 
brain  enlightcn(!d  only  by  instinct  or  intuition,  irra- 
tional, puerile,  deceitful,  cowardly,  and  altogether 
contemptible.  Given  a  condition  of  perfect  holiness 
and  ha))piness,  how  could  he  desire  more?  Yet  he 
did.  Was  it  childish  curiositv,  or  a  thirst  for  that 
knowledge  with  which  his  maker  failed  to  endow  him, 
that  prompted  him  to  transgress  ?  Was  this  the  best 
divine  power  could  do?  I  say  it  is  a  disgrace  to  civi- 
lization to  hold  such  crude,  unjust,  illogical,  and  absurd 
conceptions  of  its  deity. 

Plato.  Can  moral  strength  and  that  knowledge 
which  comes  froii'  human  experience  be  created  ? 
Righteousness  is  a  result ;  human  wisdom  springs 
from  human  activities. 

Socrates.  True,  my  Plato;  but  if  we  once  limit  the 
power  of  God,  in  whatsoever  manner  or  degree,  and 
he  ceases  to  be  almighty  or  onmipotent,  he  ceases, 
indeed,  to  be  God.  Now,  although  you  limit  the 
action  of  God  to  the  creation  of  good  only,  and  not 
evil,  you  do  not  limit  his  ])ower;  or,  if  you  so  do  or 
desire,  you  fail  to  maintain  your  ground.  To  pro- 
ceed with  our  story,  this  first-made  innocent  and 
happy  man  was  placed  in  a  garden,  and  surrounded 
with  temptations  which  his  maker  knew  beforehand 
he  could  not  and  would  not  resist,  the  strength  never 
having  been  given  him  to  do  so.  Driven  thence, 
naked  and  helpless,  without  food  or  shelter,  without 


m 


fit) 


098 


PLATO  REVISED. 


tool  or  weapon,  ho  and  his  doscontlants  were  doomed 
forever  to  struijjglo  witli  adverse  environment,  and  all 
through  no  fault  of  theirs,  they  having  been  created 
for  tliis  and  no  other  puri)ose,  and  never  having  been 
endowed  with  j)ower  to  lio  othcTwise.  These  are  the 
tenets  held  and  promulgated  by  men  who  call  them- 
selves sane. 

ylpollodona^.     Man  must  master  or  be  mastered  by 
the  forces  around  him. 


Socraics.  Returning  to  vour  book,  Plato,  in  your 
liaws  you  impose  heavy  penalties  for  what  you  call  the 
crime  of  sacrilege. 

riain.     Yes. 

Socraics.  Why  is  it  a  crime  to  speak  against  the 
gods  i 

riafo.     Because  they  arc  holy,  wise,  and  good. 

Sdcrafcs.  And  yet  you  say  that  man  is  free  to  do  as 
he  ])leases,  so  long  as  he  does  not  injure  others. 

Plato.      Yes. 

Socrates.     Can  men  hurt  or  injure  the  gods  ? 

Plato.      That  is  impossible. 

Socrates.  Then  it  injures  only  themselves  to  blas- 
pluMne  ? 

Plato.     Certainly. 

Socrates.     And  that  they  have  a  right  to  do  ? 

Plato.     Yes. 

Socrates.  Then  is  it  just  to  punish  a  man  for  doing 
what  he  has  a  right  to  do  ? 

Plato.      Have  you  nothing  else  to  say,  Socrates  ? 

Socrates.  Yes;  about  your  philosophy  as  to  lying. 
My  dear  Plato,  why  do  you  permit  rulers  in  yt)ur 
republic  to  lie,  and  not  give  the  people  the  same 
privilege  ? 

Plato.  Do  not  men  give  the  gods  th  n'  make  more 
license  in  regard  to  sinninL*'  than  they  take  for  them- 
selves  ? 

Soo'ates.  You  say  in  your  Laws  that  the  poets 
atul   mythologers  are  not  the  most  truthful  interpre- 


PLATO  REVISED. 


tors  of  tlie  gods,  wlio  indoocl  can  do  no  evil,  but  the 
legislator  is  tlio  better  judge. 

PIdlo.      That  is  true, 

Sorrafrs.  You  ujraiit  the  I'uler  b1i(^  ri^lit  to  lie, 
whicji  riijlit  of  necessity  must  extend  to  his  deputy 
or  coadjutor,  in  which  category  we  may  place  tlie 
legislator. 

Plato.     You  state  correctly. 

Socrates.     This  irives  the  leixislator  the  leiial  ri'jfht 


to  1 


IC. 


PIdto.      It  does. 

Sormtes.  But  if  the  legislator  has  the  legal  right 
to  lie,  and  the  poets  and  niythologers  lie  without  the 
legal  right,  how  shall  we  know  when  any  of  them 
rightfully  or  truthfully  interpret  the  gods? 

Plato.  Wiieii  they  say  what  is  best  for  men  to 
believe,  that  is  the  truth,  or  better  than  tlie  truth. 

Socrates.      Is  a  lie  ever  better  tlian  tlu;  truth  :* 

Plato.  Yes.  For  example  :  the  world  below  nmst 
not  be  represented  as  an  unhappy  place,  else  soldiers 
will  be  afraid  to  die,  and  so  become  cowardly. 

Socrates.  Therefore,  itv  order  to  have  them  bravely 
killed  you  would  (Unrn  their  souls  to  hell  with  a  lie-  ? 

Plato.  A.  lie  is  excusable  opily  as  a  metlieine  to 
men;  then  the  use  of  such  medicines  will  have  to  bo 
n^stricted  to  physicians;  private  individuals  have  no 
business  with  them.  If  any  [)ersons  are  to  have  the 
privilege  of  lying,  either  at  home  or  abroad,  they 
will  be  the  rulers  of  tlio  state;  they  may  be  allowed 
to  lie  for  the  public  good. 

Socrates.  Or  if  not  allowed,  they  will  lie  without 
permission. 

i*lato.  Tlu>re  is  the  true  Wo  and  the  false  lie,  th(! 
former  told  for  good  i)ur[)oses  and  the  latter  for  bad 
purposes. 

Socrates.     Yet  both  a  Ho,  nevertheless. 

Plato.  There  is  the  lie  in  action  and  the  lie  in 
words,  the  latter  being  in  certain  cases  useful  and  not 
hurtful. 


700 


PLATO    REVISED. 


Socrates.     Hear,  yo  godsl 

I'ldto.  In  the  tales  of  mytlioloji^y,  because  wc  do 
not  know  tlie  trutli  about  ancient  tnidition,  W(!  ninkr 
the  falsehood  as  much  like  truth  as  may  be,  and  so  of 
use. 

Socrates.     O  heavens! 

Plato.     Hast  had  enough,  Socrates? 

Socrates.  By  Jupiter  1  yes;  enough  of  lying  and 
your  explanation  thereof 

Plato.  Proceed,  then,  to  something  else  if  you 
have  aught  more  to  say. 

Socrates.  First,  confess,  my  dear  Plato,  that  scores 
of  pages  in  your  immortal  writings  were  spun  from 
your  prolific  brain,  without  the  shghtest  foundation 
in  truth  or  reason. 

Plato.  Of  such  are  all  teachers  and  teachings. 
Let  his  imagination  be  chaste,  and  his  siieech  accept- 
able, and  tlie  dealer  in  dogmas  need  give  liimself  no 
troul)le  as  to  their  truth. 

Socrates.  What  advantage  is  there  if  other  or 
more  than  the  truth  is  taught? 

J^lato.  None  whatever ;  yet  such,  I  say,  has  ever 
been  and  is  the  practice  of  all  teachers,  who  are  ever 
pretending  to  know  what  never  has  been  divulged  by 
any  god  or  science.  I  taught  some  truth  and  mucli 
error,  but  no  more  of  the  latter  than  is  taught  to-daj. 

Socrates.     But  why  teach  error  at  all  ? 

Plato.  By  Jupiter  1  Socrates,  will  you  ask  of  men 
what  the  gods  cannot  give  ? 

SocratC'S.  Confined  to  what  may  bo  known,  either 
gods  or  men  can  tell  the  truth. 

Plato.  Yet  what  oceans  of  pure  pretence  they  stil! 
persist  in  pouring  out,  knowing  that  no  sensible  per- 
son can  possibly  believe  half  they  say — extolling 
charity,  humility,  poverty,  sincerity,  justice,  holiness, 
commanding  that  men  shall  love  each  other,  retuin 
good  for  evil,  cease  from  war,  but  never  expecting  t<> 
see  these  things  done,  themselves  with  the  rest  invari 
ably  practising  the  contrary.    Such  morality  is  beau- 


PLATO   REVISED. 


701 


Socrates. 

Phrdo. 

Sncrdtes. 

Phivdo. 

Socrafcs. 


tiful  to  teach,  but  of  what  avail  is  it  if  no  one  ever 
[)Uts  it  into  jtractice? 

Socrates.  Pha3(lo,  was  tliere  ever  arclij;ious  teacher 
whose  precepts  were  fully  or  even  approximately 
carried  out  ? 

Phivdn.     No,  my  master. 

Socrates.  Are  strong  relis;ionists  nenerallv  persons 
of  the  hiirhest  learnini>:  and  intellijience  in  the  com- 

c-  o  o 

munity? 

Phvdo.     No. 

Socrates.  Do  they  laugh  at  the  ignorance  and 
superstition  of  others  no  worse  than  themselves? 

Plisrdo.     Most  heartily. 

])o  they  love  or  hate  their  enemies? 
The}'  hate  them. 

Do  they  rejoice  in  their  misfortunes  ? 
They  do. 
Do  they  ever  feel  joy  instead  of  sorrow 
over  the  misfortunes  of  a  friend  ? 

Plipcdo.     Very  frequently  they  feel  joy. 

Socrates.  Are  they  ever  envious  or  jealous  of 
thtnr  friends  ? 

Plardo.     They  are. 

Socrates.  Do  they  love  or  hate  their  brethren  or 
associates  in  religion? 

PInrdo.     It  is  aljout  the  same  as  with  others. 

Socrates.  That  is  to  sav,  in  them  vou  find  nothina: 
more  of  the  essence  and  ap[)lication  of  their  belief 
than  in  others? 

Pli.Tdo.  In  place  of  piety  we  have  profession ;  in 
place  of  reason,  ritualism. 

Socrates.  What  were  the  morals  of  those  whose 
teachings  we  deem  divine,  on  whose  superstitious 
assertions  we  rest  all  our  hopes  of  heaven  ? 

Phxdo.  They  believed  in  slavery,  practised  polyg- 
amy, robbed  their  enemies,  killed  captives  taken  in 
war,  and  indulged  in  all  the  immoralities  and  cruel 
savagisms  of  the  most  ancient  theologies. 

Socrates.     Does  any  great  or  small  religious  sect 


702 


PLATO  REVISED. 


pay  any  attention  to  the  funilainental  principles  of 
their  faith,  such  as  unaelfisliness,  lioncsty,  justice, 
rcturninjjf  good  for  evil,  and  refusing  violent  resistance 
to  violence^ 

Pluvdo.     None  that  I  ever  heard  of. 

Socrtdrff.  Now  for  the  application.  The  stoics 
ro<j;arded  passion  as  error  which  the  wise  would  avoid; 
to  bodily  pain  or  pleasure  the  mind  must  be  indiffer- 
ent. To  be  a  stoic  required  the  possession  of  these 
qualities;  as  they  never  were  possessed  there  were 
never  stoics. 

Crlto.  Many  refined  intellects  have  been  crushed 
by  an  enforced  reticence  which  stifled  independent 
thinkin<j^.  sacrificed  moral  courage,  and  prevented  the 
attainment  of  that  full  mental  stature  which  lies  at 
the  foundation  of  our  noblest  aspirations. 

Plmdo.  If  the  so-called  truths  of  relic;ion  cannot 
be  ovcrtlirown,  why  fear  discussion,  why  such  reti- 
cence on  the  part  of  its  teachers  whenever  the  sub- 
ject is  bnmched  ?  The  trouble  is,  the  teachers 
themselves  know  nothing  of  the  truth  of  the  doctrines 
which  they  profess,  cannot  with  good  sense  explain 
them,  and  cannot  in  any  wise  defend  them. 

Crito.  They  explain  well  where  none  question, 
but  wlien  proof  is  demanded  they  decline  to  answer. 

Phirdo.  Doubts  and  difficulties,  they  say,  beset  the 
paths  of  faith. 

Onto.  Why  should  there  be  doubts  and  difficul- 
ties ?  Why  should  the  great  creator  employ  subter- 
fuge and  phantasm  for  the  promulgation  of  plain 
honest  truths,  which  would  seem  to  demand  plain 
honest  explanation  ?  Of  what  benefit  to  religion  arc 
riddles  and  the  cloudy  obscurations  of  truth  ?  Why 
do  men,  wise  and  intelligent  in  all  things  else,  insist  on 
saddling  such  diabolisms  on  the  deity  they  adore  ? 

Plifedo.  Would  not  a  beneficent  being  meet  every 
uplook  of  a  devoted  child  with  an  answering  smile  ? 

Crito.     The  logic  of  religion   is  found  in  those  self- 


PLATO  REVISED. 


:(Xi 


v'options  and  illusions  which  are  among  the  must 
precious  of  man's  inheritances. 

Pliicdo.  In  liis  moral  government  men  make  the 
almighty  display,  to  say  the  least,  not  the  most  admir- 
able traits  of  humanity. 

Crifo.  Theology  seldom  ap[)eals  to  the  good  in 
us,  hut  denounces  human  nature,  makes  us  degenerate 
by  inheritance,  and  hurls  upon  us  the  threatened 
vengeance  of  a  creator,  by  whom  and  through  whom 
we  are  what  we  are. 

PJnedo.  They  g<j  further,  and  make  their  most  benef- 
icent creator  implant  ravening  instincts  in  all  his  creat- 
ures, such  as  forever  urge  them  on  to  destrov  each 
other.  They  make  every  work  of  a  perfect  being  in 
some  way  defective.  They  construct  the  crowning 
work  of  a  high  and  holy  being  on  a  basis  of  moral  and 
physical  ruin. 

Crito.  Nine-tenths  of  all  blood  distill' d  in  the 
veins  of  man  and  beast  has  been  poured  turth  as  an 
oblation  to  this  influence  which  they  say  created  it. 

Pliado.  Every  crime  within  the  possibility  of  man 
to  conceive  of,  and  attended  by  all  the  atrocities  and 
injustices  the  world  of  humanity  has  had  at  com- 
mand, has  been  committed  by  believers  for  the  love 
of  their  deity. 

Crifo.  All  the  iniquities  the  gods  deny  to  men, 
hate,  revenge,  robbery  and  nmrder,  their  worshippers 
permit  them  to  indulge  in  to  their  heart's  content. 

PJia'do.  In  what  actual  estimation  can  men  hold 
a  deity  whom  they  seek  by  groveling,  fawning,  flat- 
tery, cajolery  and  bribery,  to  sway  from  a  pre- 
determined purpose,  which  if  wrong  proves  the  god 
a  bad  one,  and  if  right  it  would  make  him  bad  to 
deviate  from  ? 

Crito.  Why  should  a  superlatively  glorious  being 
desire  further  glorification  by  imperfect  creatures  of 
his  own  construction,  which  were  indeed  so  vile  as 
to  be  condemned  and  cast  away  by  the  maker  ? 

Pluedo.    Over  and  over  atjuin  his  followers  acknowl- 


"im 


704 


PLATO  REVISED. 


I    ^1 


(•<lge  his  errors,  lament  his  failure,  and  cause  him  to 
\vi|)e  out  his  work  in  fire  or  blood. 

( 'rilo.  To  lead  a  perfect  life,  to  follow  a  perfect 
moral  code,  implies  perfection  in  man,  with  all  knowl- 
edge, self-connnand,  and  goodness,  which  these  men 
make  the  law-<fiver  hi«nself  the  first  to  declare  as 
wholly  absent  from  both  the  nature  and  possibilities 
of  man. 

Plindo.  In  all  reliojions  reven2re  is  riijht  for  tho 
creatoi',  but  not  always  for  the  creature.  Indra,  who 
is  pleased  by  praise,  and  Vishnu,  one  of  the  forms  of 
the  sun,  are  sought,  not  for  their  spiritual  but  for 
their  material  aid.  There  is  no  ethical  or  moral  idea 
about  their  worship.  Evil  abounds,  and  the  gods  are 
[)raised  because  they  destroy  sinners,  in  which  cate- 
gory are  ])laced  those  who  do  not  praise  and  sacrifice 
to  the  gods. 

Crifo.  It  is  singular  that  so  many  intelligent  per- 
sons should  hold  some  one  particular  collection  of 
absurd  fancies  atid  superstitions  true,  and  all  other 
collections  false. 

I*lin'<h.  Strange  indeed  are  the  ways  of  the  world, 
when  viewed  as  the  work  of  perfect  wisdom,  love, 
and  power,  this  slowly  unfolding  and  most  defective 
earth,  with  its  rattlesnakes  and  tigers  and  tigerish 
humanity,  its  progressions  by  births  and  deaths,  its 
religions  of  loves  and  hates,  of  ravenous  selfishness, 
ruthless  carnage,  and  ever-improved  death-dealing 
contrivances. 

Kvcvvs.  The  first  man  was  made  upright,  but  he 
fell  under  the  temptations  of  evil. 

Crito.  Why  did  God  allow  the  evil  to  tempt  this 
man  ? 

Krnms.     To  try  him. 

Crito.     Why  did  he  wish  to  try  him  ? 

Evr7)vs.     To  make  him  a  responsible  creature. 

(^ri(o.  Could  not  God  have  made  him  a  responsi- 
ble creature  in  the  first  place  ? 

Evcnud.     That  was  no  part  of  his  purpose, 


PLATO  HEVISED. 


705 


Crito.     How  know  you  liis  purpose  ? 

Eveuus.     From  his  acts. 

Crito.     Arc  liis  acts  good  or  bad  ? 

Evcmis.     Tlic  liolv  one  cannot  tolerate  evil. 

Crito.  Am  I  not  responsible  for  a  wronix  I  can 
prevent,  and  will  not? 

Ercnns.     Undoubtedly. 

Crito.  Your  religion  needs  a  little  patching  here, 
my  friend.  Your  creator  knowingly  makes  a  creature 
not  strong  enough  to  withstand  the  temptation  })re- 
viously  pre[)ared  for  his  eternal  entrapment.  Tell  me, 
my  good  Evenus,  how  it  is,  when  wc  see  the  universe, 
material  and  moral,  held  together  by  opposing  forces, 
attraction  and  rejjulsion,  good  and  evil,  or  whatsoever 
they  may  be  called,  that  one  deity  can  be  absolute 
over  all,  without  the  several  parts  of  his  nature  being 
divided  against  themselves,  and  antagonistic  one  to 
the  other '{ 

J'JroiHS.  We  cannot  understand  all  t)f  God's  ways, 
or  fathom  all  of  his  mysteries. 

Crito.  That,  m^'  friend,  is  a  mere  evasion  of  the 
difficulty.  You  make  a  deity,  and  endow  him  with 
attrii)utes,  the  most  of  which  you  explain  clearly 
enough  to  your  own  satisfaction  ;  but  where  your 
plan  is  defective,  incongruous,  contradictory,  absurd, 
f)r  utterly  impossible,  instead  of  frankly  admitting  its 
im[)erfection  and  revising  your  religion  so  as  to  biing 
it  within  the  [)ale  of  connnon  sense,  you  avoid  the 
issue  by  hiding  (Jod  behind  an  impenetrable  veil  of 
mystery,  (iod  is  either  the  author  of  all  or  otdy  of 
part ;  he  is  the  master  of  evil  or  else  not  omnipotent; 
to  say  that  you  cannot  understand  why,  hating  evil 
and  being  able  instantly  to  extinguish  it,  he  permits 
it,  is  to  place  yours(!lf  and  your  deity  in  fals(>  posi- 
tions and  render  both  ridiculous.  It  is  true  that 
si)nie  thinofs  about  vour  deitv  you  think  you  under- 
stand,  while  n^garding  others  you  think  otherwis(\ 
The  fact  is,  you  know  nothing  about  God,  and  in 
rommon    sense    and    common    honesty   you    should 

E88AY8  AND   MltirULLANV     45 


ii'I  J 


7f6 


PLATO  REVISED. 


frankly  admit  as  much,  instead  of  weaving  fantastic 
theories  whicli  leave  him  in  a  maze  of  absurdities, 
when  in  truth  you  are  obliged  after  all  to  admit  that 
you  know  nothing  about  it. 

Phirdo.     Shall  you  ever  make  a  deity,  Socrates  ? 

Not  until  I  can  improve  upon  any   now 


On    what  would  you  base  a  rational  God  ? 

On  nature. 
But   there    are  two  elements  in  natures — 


y^ocratcs. 
existino". 

Phinlo. 

k^n  crates. 

r/mlo. 
good  and  evil. 

Socraks.  Then  I  would  have  two  gods,  (;r  one 
god  with  two  sides  or  two  natures,  open  and  antago- 
nistic ;  such  as  we  see  cvory where  in  the  universe.  1 
would  not  ascribe  all  good  qualities  to  his  attributes, 
and  all  bad  qualities  to  his  actions.  Throughout  the 
universal  realm  of  dim  intelligence  it  is  most  conven- 
ient for  learned  iijnorance  to  have  a  God  with  wlioni 
all  things  are  possible,  and  whose  waj's  are  past  find- 
ing out.  Witli  the  principles  of  good  and  evil  abroad,  it 
is  necessary  in  every  well-ordered  religion  either  to  hr.vo 
two  supreme  deities  of  about  equally  balanced  powcis 
that  are  eternallv  anta<jonistic,  thou'>h  neither  can 
ever  wholly  overthrow  the  other,  or  else  to  make  the 
one  suiireme  deitv  father  of  the  evil  and  author  of  all 
wickedness.  For  clearly,  if  there  be  but  one,  and  he 
the  author  of  all,  he  must  of  necessity  be  the  origina- 
tor and  preserver  of  evil  as  of  good.  Further  tlian  this. 
being  onmipotent  and  permitting  evil,  is  to  be  dirc^ctly 
responsible  for  it ;  so  that  on  any  ground  it  is  impossi- 
ble that  God  slunild  not  be  held  absolutely  resi)onsii)l(' 
for  all  the  sin  and  miserv  as  well  as  the  riixhtcousiit^s 
and  happiness  of  all.  The  truth  is,  the  worshippers  of' 
(Jod  put  forth  all  their  efforts  to  invest  his  nature 
with  the  most  monstrous  incongruities. 

PJmth).  Of  the  senseless  and  absurd  infatuations 
man  has  indulged  in  during  his  long  journey  from 
protoplasm  to  his  present  state  of  not  too  high  intd- 
lectualitv,  his  religions  have  been  the  most  nonsensical. 


PLATO  RKVISED. 


707 


What  with  the  savagisms  of  tlic  supernatural,  perse- 
cutions fur  opinion's  sake,  bloody  wars,  and  hateful 
revenges,  and  all  under  pretence  of  piet}',  self-sacrifice, 
justice,  and  the  special  cnjt>yinent  if  tlio  favor  of  the 
king  of  heaven,  wo  have  made  up  a  catalogue  of  self- 
delusions  that  is  almost  incredible, 

Crito.     And  still  the  infatuation  continues. 

ApoIJocJorv.'^.  The  maxims  of  all  gods  nmst  bo  better 
than  their  practice;  else  man  who  made  them  would 
bo  tlieir  inferior,  whicji  has  never  y<-t  hocn  tlio  case. 
If  a  man  were  not  better  than  his  creed  he  would  bo 
driven  from  society. 

(h'ifo.  Is  there  more  of  good  or  of  evil  in  the; 
world  ? 

J'Jrrmts.  I  should  say  thoy  were  about  equally  bal- 
anced. 

Socrafcff.  These  two  principles  liuve  ever  been  at 
war;  istliere  any  gain  of  (Mie  u[)on  the  other? 

EvcnU'\     It  cannot  be  so  demonstrated. 

Socrates.     This  is  not  a  perfect  world  l 

Evrmis.     Anyone  can  sec  that  it  is  not. 

Sii('rnf''s.  Is  it  possible  for  a  perfect  being  to  be 
the  author  of  an  imperfect  work  ? 

Ernwa.     No,  I  tliiidc  not. 

Socrafrs.      And  yet  CJod  is  perfect  i 

Evemix.      UiHpiestionably. 

Socrates.     And  his  woik  imperfect. 

Eirmis.     Wo  see  evidences  about  us  of  ituperfcxtion. 

Socrates,  It  is  an  inadmissible  pro])osition  that  a 
perfect  b(>ing  should  execute  or  sustain  an  imperfect 
work.  It  is  no  more  possible  for  perfection  to  breed 
imperfection  than  for  perfection  to  be  e!ig(M)(ler»'d 
un<kr  any  other  than  faultless  conditions.  If,  while 
just  an<l  holy,  God  is  su[)reme,  there  is  no  [)lace 
wherein  it  is  possible  for  iniquity  and  injustic(^  to 
exist ;  if  while  he  hates  evil  God  is  su])re!ne,  evil  can- 
not exist.  If  famine  and  pestilence  are  abroad,  if 
robbery,  slavery,  imirder,  and  death  abound,  they  ar»' 
the  wish,  will,  and  work  of  the  almighty;  if  the  evil 


tit 


708 


PLATO  REVISF.n. 


\v 


lives,  it  lives  alone  by  the  sustaining  power  of  tlu 
almighty,  by  virtue  of  the  ahuighty's  will,  and  for  tl 
purpose  of  doing  what  it  does,  which  is  to  sow  mi.s- 
chief,  and  tempt  and  destroy  other  of  God's  creatures. 
Thus  he  who  is  called  perfect  justice  makes  birds, 
and  beasts,  and  fishes,  the  strong  to  prey  upon  tlu; 
weak,  and  among  men  the  cunning  to  circumvent  the 
simple,  and  devils  to  torture  and  devour  all  over 
whom  they  may  by  the  grace  of  God  gain  dominion. 

Evenus.  We  cannot  fathom  all  the  mysteries  of 
the  almighty. 

Socrates,  If  you  ran  fathom  any  of  them  why 
cannot  you  fathom  them  all ;  is  not  one  mystery  as 
mysterious  as  another  ? 

Evenus.  Some  things  God  has  explained;  others 
he  has  not  revealed. 

Socrates.     Has  he  revealed  to  you  anything  ? 
Yes. 
Has  he  revealed  to  you  his  loving  kind- 


Evenus. 
Socrates. 
noss  ? 
Evenus. 
Socrates. 


Yos. 


It  is  a  mark  of  loving  kindness  to  make 
a  world  full  of  misery,  life  itself  being  sustained  by 
sufferings  and  death  ? 

Evenus.     We  caimot  understand. 

Socrates.  Then  why  pretend  that  you  understand  ; 
why  make  statements  and  pro})agate  beliefs  wjiieh  so 
contradict  each  other  that  they  cannot  be  true  :' 
God,  you  say,  is  onmiscient,  knowing  the  end  from 
the  beginning. 

Everms.     Yes. 

Socrates.     And  you  say  he  is  wise  ? 

Evenus.     Yes. 

Socrates.  What  would  you  say  of  a  wise  and  good 
man  who  knowingly  and  intentionally  brought  to 
pass  innumerable  dire  disasters  and  atrocities,  calmly 
doing  the  things  he  most  of  all  abhorred,  fosterinij 
what  he  most  hated,  and  punishing,  so  far  as  he  was 


PLATO  REVISED. 


709 


able,  evil  agents  which  lie  had  made  to  do  the  evil, 
and  could  not  help  so  doing  '{ 

Eveniis.     Such  could  not  be. 

Socrates.  Are  modern  religionists  generally  men  of 
sound  minds? 

Evemv^.  They  are  far  above  the  average  intelli- 
gence of  men  throuuhout  the  world. 

Socrates.  Then  1  am  sorry  for  the  world,  and  have 
ajjain  to  thank  the  hendock.  For  these  whose  reliiiion 
appears  to  have  been  made  up  of  parts  of  older  beliefs, 
and  partaking  of  the  incongruities  and  contradictions 
of  them  all,  set  up  for  themselves  a  deity  claiming  all 
[terfections  in  power,  knowledge,  benevolence,  holi- 
ness, and  justice,  yet  the  author  of  evil,  or  if  not,  then 
not  the  author  of  all  nor  supreme  creator — in  any 
event  permitting  evil,  and  thereby  making  himself  a 
party  to  it ;  with  pretended  omnipotence,  [)retcnding 
to  hate  unto  death  an  adversary  whom  he  permits  to 
live,  and  tempthig  and  tormenting  his  children  whom 
purposely,  out  of  hi.s  infinite  loving  kindness  and 
tender  mercy,  he  created  too  weak  to  withstand  tlie 
temptation,  God  knowing  all  the  time  that  the  vast 
majority  of  his  people  would  fall  and  be  punished  in 
endless  agony. 

Evcnus,  An  omniscient  Cjod  knows  the  end  from 
the  beginning — knows  all  that  will  come  to  pass 
before  the  WH)rld  is  made. 

Socrates.  Even  so;  wliatcver  happens  must  have 
liappened.  And  yet  the  creature  is  made  responsible 
for  what  the  creator  com[)els  him  tt»  do,  and  punishes 
him  for  doing. 

Crito.  In  attempting  to  make  known  his  will,  the 
creator  cither  intended  man  should  understand  or  he 
did  not;  if  the  former,  then  the  creator  should  either 
have  spoken  plainer,  or  else  have  rendered  the  per- 
ceptive faculties  of  man  more  acute  ;  if  the  latter, 
men  cannot  be  held  responsible  for  not  comprehend- 
ing what  their  maker  did  not  wish  or  expect  them  to 
comprehend      Nor  do   I  see   how  in  any    event   the 


1 " .!'  1 


710 


PLATO  REVISED. 


fault  can  bo  the  creature's,  to  whom  has  never 
been  given  suffieient  evidence  on  which  to  base  a 
reasonable  oj)inion  ;  for  surely  if  the  creator  did  not 
wish  to  have  his  people  mystified  on  this  most  momen- 
tous subject  ho  would  have  enlightened  them,  and  if 
ho  did  not  wish  them  to  use  their  reasoning  faculties, 
he  never  would  have  fonnulated  them.  He  who  made 
the  mind  could  so  reveal  himself  to  the  mind  as  to  leave 
no  doubt ;  he  who  formulated  reason  could  so  address 
reason  as  to  satisfy  reason. 

ApollodoTiiK.  Ah,  I  see  I  As  Lucian  in  his  Sale 
of  the  Philosopliers  says  of  the  boy  who,  in  crossing  a 
river,  is  seized  by  a  crocodile,  the  captor  promises  to 
give  him  up  to  his  father  if  the  father  will  rightly 
guess  what  the  crocodile  is  going  to  do  with  him.  Now 
if  the  father  guesses  that  the  crocodile  means  to 
restore  the  boy,  the  guess  is  wrong,  ft)r  the  beast 
inearis  to  cat  him.  If  the  father  guesses  the  croco- 
dile is  going  to  cat  him,  clearly  the  guess  would  1  e 
wrong  should  the  crocodile  give  him  up.  And  again, 
Plowden,  the  priest,  could  not  be  punished  for  attend- 
ing mass  performed  by  a  layman,  because  mass  so 
performed,  without  the  offices  of  priests,  was  no  mass ; 
and  therefore  Plowden  did  not  attend  mass,  and 
could  not  be  punished  for  doing  what  he  did  not  do. 
And  so  on. 


Socrates.  I  find  written  in  your  Republic,  Plato, 
that  we  nmst  not  listen  to  Homer,  or  to  any  otlu  i' 
poet  who  intimates  or  is  guilty  of  the  folly  of  saying  that 
God  is  the  dispenser  t)f  good  and  evil ;  and  that  of  tin- 
evils  the  cause  is  to  be  sought  elsewhere,  and  not  in 
him.  And  you  say,  if  any  one  asserts  that  the  viola- 
tion of  oaths  and  treaties,  of  which  Pandarus  was  t\w. 
real  author,  was  brought  about  by  Athene  and 
Zeus,  or  that  strife  among  the  fjods  was  instiuated  by 
Themis  and  Zeus,  he  shall  not  have  your  approval ; 
neither  will  you  allow  our  young  men  to  hear  the 
words  of  -^schylus  that  God  ])lants  guilt  among  the 


PLATO  REVISED. 


711 


men  he  desires  to  destroy.  And  if  a  poet  writes  of  the 
surt'erings  of  Niobe,  which  is  the  subject  of  the  tragedy 
in  which  these  iambic  verses  occur,  or  of  the  house 
of  Pelops,  or  of  the  Trojan  war,  or  any  similar  theme, 
either  we  must  not  permit  him  to  say  that  tliese  are 
the  works  of  God,  or  if  they  are  of  God  he  nmst 
devise  some  sucli  expLanation  of  them  as  we  are  seek- 
ini;  ;  lie  nmst  sav  that  God  did  what  was  just  and 
right,  and  they  were  the  better  for  being  punished  ; 
but  that  those  who  are  punished  are  miserable,  and 
God  is  the  author  of  their  misery — the  poet  is  not  to 
be  permitted  so  to  say,  though  he  may  say  that  the 
wicked  are  miserable  because  they  require  to  be  ])un- 
ishod  and  are  benefited  by  receiving  [»unishment  from 
God  ;  but  that  God  being  good  is  the  author  of  evil 
to  anyone,  that  is  to  be  strenuously  denied,  and  not 
allowed  to  be  sung  or  said  in  any  well-ordered  com- 
monwealth by  old  or  young. 

Plato.     We  nmst  shield  the  good  name  of  God. 

Socrates.     Why  must  we  shield  his  good  name  i 
he  is  wiser  and  better  and  stronger  than  man,  cannot 
he  take  care  of  his  own  reputation  ? 

Plato.  He  works  not  in  that  way.  Troubled  you 
yourself  regarding  your  reputation,  Socrates,  while 
in  Athens  ?  Neither  troubles  God  himself  over  many 
other  things  which  throw  the  minds  of  men  into 
confusion. 

Socrates.  You  are  like  all  the  rest,  Plato,  you  can 
discourse  with  some  degree  of  common  sense  upon 
any  system  of  theology  except  your  own. 

Plato.  If,  Socrates,  amid  the  many  o[)inions  about 
the  gods  and  the  generation  of  the  universe,  we  are 
not  able  to  give  notions  which  are  in  every  way  exact 
and  consistent  with  one  another,  do  not  be  surprised. 
Enough  if  we  adduce  probabilities  as  likely  as  any 
otlun's,  for  we  nmst  remember  that  we  are  only 
mortal  men,  and  ouglit  to  accept  the  tale  which  is 
probable  and  not  inquire  further. 


712 


PLATO  REVISED. 


Socrates.  That  were  the  answer  of  a  common 
priest,  but  not  of  Plato. 

Plato.     In  religion  Plato  is  no  better  than  a  priest. 

Socrates.  When  you  admit  the  necessity  of  explain- 
ing the  motives  of  the  gods,  and  of  defending  their 
seemingly  impious  and  iniquitous  ways ;  and  when 
you  declare  further,  as  is  written  in  the  Laws,  that 
gods  and  temples  are  not  easily  established,  and  to 
establish  them  rightly  is  the  work  of  a  mighty 
intellect,  were  you  not  even  then  of  opinion  that  gods 
and  theogonios  are  made  by  men  ? 

Plato.  God  and  his  ways  nmst  be  set  right  before 
ignorant  men,  who  otherwise  go  astray  in  their  con- 
ceptions of  the  nature  and  attributes  of  the  deity. 

Socrates.  Cannot  God,  if  he  chooses,  reveal  him- 
self to  the  ignorant  as  well  as  to  the  wise  ?  You  say 
that  Homer  and  the  poets  are  not  to  be  believed, 
and  the  ignorant  are  not  to  bo  trusted.  Truly  you 
bring  the  power  of  God  within  narrow  limits,  like- 
wise the  possibilities  of  men. 

Plato.  Well,  then,  let  the  gods  take  care  of  them- 
selves, and  let  ignorance  and  superstition  breed  if 
they  bring  happiness. 

Socrates.  Ye  gods!  is  this  Plato,  whilom  called  the 
divine,  the  reputed  lover  of  truth,  holding  in  abhor- 
rence whatsoever  obscured  the  light  of  life  and 
reason  ?  To  me  the  hemlock  is  nectar  beside  iioblets 
of  delicious  deceit. 

Plato.  I  do  not  say  that  I  love  lies,  or  for  mj'self 
prefer  the  pleasures  of  superstition  to  unpalatable 
truth  ;  nor  do  I  say  that  I  would  rather  drink  hem- 
lock than  good  wine,  or  have  a  fancy  for  teaching 
toads  the  glory  of  the  stars.  Leave  swine  to  their 
wallow,  and  let  only  those  who  choose  come  out 
upon  the  plain  of  universal  actuality,  even  though 
the  horizon  lacks  mirage,  and  no  celestial  city  shines 
beyond  the  sk3^ 

Socrates.  But,  my  Plato,  how  are  men  to  know 
truth  from  error  if  they  are  not  told  ? 


ph 

the 


PLATO  REVISED. 


713 


Plato.  Who  is  to  tell  tlieni,  O  Socrates  ?  How 
much  of  truth  know  you  ?  How  much  know  I  ? 
And  what  advantage  over  ours  had  earlier  and  tlarkcr 
aufes?  In  matters  whereof  none  can  know  aught,  it 
phrases  some  to  pretend  to  a  knowledge  for  which 
there  is  no  warrant.  Ancient  lies,  long  wrapped  in 
popular  formulas,  become  things  sacred,  which  to  (|ues- 
tion  is  sacrilege.  Then,  as  civilization  advances,  and 
a  little  light  l)reaks  in  upon  the  n:ind,  to  fit  the  ever- 
lessoning  renmant  of  these  absurdities  to  the  indis- 
putable  truths  of  sciinice  becomes  a  fine  art,  to  which 
many  thousands  of  worthy  men  devote  their  lives, 
regarding  it  as  highly  meritorious  to  fill  in  with  new 
fancies  the  gaps  caused  by  the  demolitio!i  of  progress. 

Socrates.  Dost  thou,  then,  the  divine  teacher, 
discourage  meditation,  and  the  analysis  thereof? 

Plato.  In  so  far  as  it  tends  to  fasten  upon  the 
minds  of  men  the  foibles  and  fables  of  antiquity  as 
holy  and  everlasting  truths,  I  do.  ]\Iost  reforms 
are  killed  by  the  reformers.  Indeed,  my  master,  will 
not  the  earth  revolve,  the  sun  sliine,  and  waters  flow 
witliout  so  nmch  agony  and  bloody  sweat  oii  the  part 
of  those  who  measure  their  knowledge  bv  the  it:no- 
ranee  of  others,  and  who  find  so  much  to  improve  in 
the  creator's  work,  wliich  originally  was  pronounced 
very  good  ?  It  is  by  no  means  an  established  propo- 
sition that  mankind  has  been  benefited  by  these 
strained  eHbrts  of  priests,  reformers,  salvation  saints, 
and  all  that  army  of  evil-exterminators  who  harnosy 
infernal  agencies  to  the  chariot  of  the  J^ord,  and  who 
have  been  so  diligentlv  at  work  to  batter  down  the 
walls  of  Satan's  stronghold  ever  sinc(>  the  i(ka  got 
abroad  that  there  were  such  beings  and  [)la(<  s  in  this 
fair  universe.  With  what  niatcldess  confidence  the 
creature  exponn<ls  the  mind  and  heart  of  the  creator 
to  the  less  favored  of  his  race.  Truly,  it  is  among 
the  iirnorant,  the  tliouirhtless,  tlie  unreasoning  that 
religions  most  do  flourish  ;  indeed,  never  vet  wn,s  a 
new  religion  established  among  the  more  intelligent, 


714 


I'LATO    UKVISED. 


il'! 


C'ducattMl,  and  refined  of  a  ooniniunity.  Turn  into  a 
field  the  youn*^  asses,  and  set  the  old  asses  braying 
at  them  ;  is  tlie  breed  improved  thereby  i  By  any 
amount  of  prayer  and  exhortation  ean  tlie  trees  be 
made  to  bear  better  and  larger  fruit  i  Is  man,  then, 
so  much  worse  than  animals  and  plants?  Has  human 
clay  in  the  han<ls  of  the  alnwghty  become  so  sliU'cncd 
as  to  re(|uire  the  assistance  of  men  in  the  further 
tashioning  ? 

iSocmti's.     So  it  would  seem,  IMato. 

Plato.  On  the  whole,  is  it  not  presumptuous  on 
the  part  of  one  portion  of  humanity  to  regard  them- 
selves in  spiritual  matters  as  the  teachers  and  n>gu- 
lators  of  the  otiier  portion  (  What  knowledge  of  the 
unknowable  had  the  earlier  comers  to  this  planet 
that  the  later  comers  liave  not  ?  What  more  knows 
the  man  in  the  pulpit  on  Sunday  of  the  abstract 
thcolouv  which  he  (.liscusses  than  the  maii  who  carries 
bricks  on  Saturday?  He  talks  better,  but  how  mucli 
more  does  he  know  ?  What  can  the  one  learn  from 
his  books  of  that  which  is  hidden  in  utter  darknes.^ 
that  the  other  cannot  learn  from  his  bricks?  "Can 
we  explain  what  we  see  and  are  conscious  of  by  refer- 
ring it  to  what  we  do  not  see  and  are  not  c(>nscious 
of?"  asks  one.  What  is  rehgious  study  but  an 
attempt  at  reasoning  from  false  jtremises,  or  no  prem- 
ises, a  manipulation  of  uncertainties  and  absurdities  ;' 

Socnifcs.  Religion  is  maiTs  necessity,  though  so 
often  the  subterfuge  of  a  hypocrite. 

Plato.  Natural  or  true  religion,  yes ;  but  not  the 
creeds  interwoven  of  demons  and  deities  of  worse 
natures  than  the  men  who  make  them;  creeds  fornui- 
lated  in  half-savage  societies,  and  drawn  into  a  thread 
to  mark  the  only  safe  path  across  the  narrow  isthnms 
of  our  lives. 

Socrafca.  For  all  tliat,  the  moral  element  will  have 
its  ideality,  howsoever  the  progressional  may  be  able 
to  work  without  it. 

Plato.     Grant  it  be  so  ;    but  give  not  to  its  absurd 


I'LATO   r.KVISEP. 


715 


inventions  aliniglity  and  iniinaculato  powers,  wliieli, 
it'  so  bo  any  such  ever  existed,  and  desind  the  regen- 
eration of  tlie  world,  they  would  long  since  have 
aecoDiplishod  it.  Neither  intellectual  nor  religious 
culture  has  the  moralizing  effect  usually  attributed 
to  it.  And  if  religionists  would  liave  the  res[)ect  of 
the  intelligent,  they  must  do  sonietliing  besides  hold 
in  mute  abhorrence  tlu>sc  who  differ  from  tlicm  in 
opinion,  and  insist  upon  the  truth  of  tlogmas  which 
nature  and  reason  declare  false,  until  there  are  given 
to  us  other  and  l)etter  means  than  reason  and  nature 
for  determining  truth. 

Socrates.  It  would  seem  in  your  opinion,  then,  that 
there  are  no  homst  teachers  of  religion  i 

Plato.  Yes,  many,  ignorantly  honest,  for  the  intel- 
ligently honest  nmst  needs  immediately  stop  the 
present  kind  of  teaching.  There  is  a  class  of  al)le 
men  who,  fearinijr  starvation,  stru»jurle  with  their 
spiritual  as  with  their  material  difficulties,  coercing 
conscience,  explaining  away  unfulfilled  ])r(>phecits 
and  j>ali>al)le  contiadictions,  and  striving  in  every 
way  to  twist  the  statements  of  holy  books  tt)  lit  tlio 
facts  of  science,  or  \n'c  versa.  There  are  in  tliis 
world  some  expounders  of  religion  who  are  It'lly 
minded  and  holy  men —whatsoever  this  latter  teiin 
may  signify — whose  lives  are  an  oblation.  There  art; 
some  religious  peoj)lo  who  are  honest;  but  lucu  of 
the  world  have  learned  not  to  trust  to  the  religion 
that  is  in  a  person  for  the  payment  of  a  debt.  So 
with  our  religious  teachers.  The  moral  sense  of 
many  of  tlnin  is  warped,  being  chained  to  tradition, 
and  made  to  walk  lietween  high  walls  of  dogniiis. 
Many  of  them  are  openly  dishonest,  it  being  a  small 
matter  in  their  opinion  for  a  servant  of  the  almighty 
to  appropriate  to  his  own  use  the  fruits  of  the 
ahniirhtvV  handiwork  wherever  ho  mav  find  them. 
Men  preach  too  much  and  practise  too  little,  my 
master. 


I  1  ! 


Ill 


716 


TLATO  REVISED. 


Socrates.  I  fear  tlmt  you  niul  your  pliiloso[»liy  arc 
soiiK'Nvhat  clianged,  my  Plato. 

Plato.  I  liokl  it  wisdom  to  change  ideas  and  opin- 
ions as  evidence  changes.  "Have  an  opinion  and 
liold  to  it,"  is  a  maxim  which  has  tilled  the  work! 
with  fanatics.  Lacking  the  brains  to  forniuluto 
ci)rr('(t  oi)inions  yourself,  take  another's  and  liold 
to  them,  even  though  they  come  from  ancient  igno- 
ramuses whose  superstiticm  time  hallows.  Evidence 
matters  not,  nor  yet  a  knowable  or  provable  propo- 
sition. No,  mv  dear  master.  Ho  nmst  be  more  than 
(Jod  or  less  than  man  wlio  never  has  occasion  to 
cluiiige  his  opinions.  When  the  Ionic  gods  of  Homer 
and  the  Doric  gods  of  He.siod  could  not  stand  the 
test  of  philosophic  encpiiiy,  pious  men  became  infu- 
riated. Euripides  was  charged  with  heresy,  nnd 
i3i]schvlus  threattmed  with  .stoning  to  death  for  bias- 
phemy.     Only  fools  and  fanatics  never  change. 

Socrates.     How  is  it  written  hi  your  book  ? 

rialo.  My  book  1  Cast  not  hi  my  teeth  my  book. 
1>\-  .)u|»itcr!  I  will  revise  my  book.  Every  book 
sliould  he  revised  once  in  two  thousand  vcars. 

Socrates.     But  will  vou  not  revise  vour  reliijion  ? 

Plato.  No.  Keligions  revise  themselves,  forced 
tliereto  bv  tliat  inexplicable  unfoldin«jf  of  the  intellect 
called  civilization.  Jleligions  make  hooks,  ami  books 
j)erpetuate  religions;  but  long  after  the  religion  has 
departed  tlie  book  remains,  which,  if  not  changed  to 
fit  luvv  conditions  becomes  obsolete,  inculcating  igno- 
rance and  superstition. 

Socrates.  How  ?  If  a  book  teaches  ignorance  and 
superstition  at  the  last,  did  it  not  so  at  the  first? 

Plafo.  Yes.  But  savages  and  the  simple-minded 
seem  to  require  a  solution  of  superstition  in  their 
intellectual  nutriment  which  the  more  advanced  minds 
do  not  demand.  Books  tend  to  jiieserve  the  forms 
of  religion  long  after  the  essence  is  gone,  to  enforce 
the  power  of  religion  long  after  its  fiilsehoods  are 
exposed,  to  keep  alive  lip  service  conforming  to  the 


PLATO  IIKVISKI), 


717 


ocl 


l>arl)nnsma  of  anticjuity  loiii^  uftor  ol\  llizutloii  lias 
fc)rl)i(kli'ii  in(lul«^iMic('  in  sarnnl  savaj^isms. 

^^o('rat(^s.  Imlcod,  my  IMuLo,  1  have  slci>t.  For  I, 
thy  former  teachi>r,  find  myself  appealing  to  tluM'  for 
iiistructlon.  Thus  it  is,  ever  and  forever,  the  new 
t(!aelies  the  old  ;  the  old  reiteratt  s,  the  new  unfolds. 
In  learnin«jj  and  intellect  the  ancients  were  <»nce  ,!;;ods; 
now  they  arc  babes;  for  besides  the  searching'  loj^^ic 
of  modern  science  their  a[»horisms  and  doctrines  arc 
but  gilded  superstition,  as  many  of  th(»se  of  the 
present  day  will  be  regariled  three  hundied  y(>ars 
hence.  Yet  I  do  i)elieve  thai  in  form  and  idttdity 
the  ancients  are  still  the  world's  teachers,  howevt  r 
in  the  knowledge  of  matter,  and  the  art  of  its  subser- 
vience to  the  requirements  of  man,  they  mav  have 
been  outstripped  by  more  material  niinds  during  these 
ctmturies  of  practical  progress, 

Plato.  ]\Ien  make  their  ijods  bv  slow  dcj^rces, 
without  knowing  it,  endowing  them  with  so-called 
superior  attributes,  and  soon  coming  to  think  that 
the  gods  made  them,  that  they  are  beings  to  l)e  pi-tted 
and  I'rayod  to,  coaxed,  cajoled,  bribed,  and  bepraisc d 
without  limit  or  reason,  and  not  to  l)e  disturl)cd  in 
their  sage  and  eternal  cogitations  by  prying  |»hilos- 
ophcrs.  Men  arc  nowhere  so  sensitive  as  about  their 
religion,  especially  when  calhnl  ujion  to  prove  it. 
What  did  you  expect  to  gain,  Socrates,  hy  obtruding 
your  good  sense  upon  those  bhx'kheads  of  Athens? 

Socrates.  I  was  not  in  search  of  gain  ;  that,  ]Mato, 
you  know  well  enough.  And  truly  the  hemlock 
harmed  me  not;  I  needcnl  sleep.  But  how  knew 
Melitus  what  I  did  not  believe  ?  How  know  I  what 
I  believe  ?  Knowing  not  I  denied  not ;  knowing 
naught  I  affirmed  naui>ht.  Plato,  can  one  believe 
what  one  cannot  apprehend  ? 

Plato.  By  the  gods  I  no.  Belief  comes  from  evi- 
dence, from  a  knowledixe  of  facts.  Where  the  facts 
are  not  made  evident  there  can  be  no  belief.  What 
men  call  faith,  or  belief  iu  the  unseen  and  unknown, 


718 


PLATO  REVISED. 


is  but  tlie  blindness  of  bigotry;  tlie  greater  the 
ignorance  and  stupidity,  the  greater  such  faith.  Dogs 
bark  because  other  do<is  bark. 

ISocrates.  As  well  so  as  to  follow  Anaxagoras  when 
ho  cries,  "Nothing  can  be  known,  nothing  can  bo 
learned,  nothing  can  be  certain ;  sense  is  limited, 
intellei  t  is  weak,  life  is  short."  Or  still  worse,  to 
hold  with  Gorgirts  of  Leontini  the  doctrines  of  utter 
nihilism,  that  nothing  exists,  or  if  existing  cannot  be 
known,  or  if  known  the  knowledge  cannot  be  imparted. 
There  is  the  testimony  of  iimer  consciousness,  which 
you  say  may  be  aljove  that  of  reason.  More  people 
trust  to  their  feelings  than  to  their  reason.  They 
know  a  thing  to  be  so  because  all  their  inner  sense 
tells  them  it  is  so. 

]*l<ito.  Not  necessarily.  Either  God  and  heaven 
exist  or  they  do  not,  and  the  fact  is  not  affected  by 
anv  one's  belief  Therefore  the  inner  consciousness 
which  affirms  the  non-existence  of  spiritual  intelli- 
gences goes  as  far  to  prove  the  fact  as  the  inner 
consciousness  which  is  certain  of  their  existence. 

Crito.  Some  say  that  because  all  n)en  believe  in  a 
supreme  deity — which,  indeed,  is  not  true — therefore 
there  nmst  be  one. 

l*l(it().  If  believing  a  thing  makes  it  true,  then  is 
the  earth  flat,  and  in  the  center  of  the  universe,  with 
all  the  heavenly  bodies  revolving  round  it,  and  hell 
in  its  bowels ;  for  all  men  once  so  believed.  There 
are  ghosts  and  witches,  spirits  in  the  air,  miracles 
evcrv  dav  ;  if  what  men  believe  makes  a  thing  true, 
then  arc  the  religions  of  savagism  true.  ]Mf)ham- 
njodanism  and  Buddhism  and  Confucianism  are  true, 
for  more  m«^n  believe  in  these  religions  than  in  any 
others.  If  there  is  anything  in  this  argunient,  then 
the  majority  must  rule,  and  everybody  knows  that 
the  masses  of  mankiiid  are  dolts,  stupidly  ignorant 
and  superstitious.  Were  a  child,  in  the  ordinary 
affairs  of  life,  to  act  as  do  men  in  their  religions,  and 


PLATO  REVISED. 


719 


upon   no  better  evidence,  he  would  be  beaten  with 
rods. 

Crito,  But  men  have  Imd  an  orisjjin,  and  tliey 
would  know  it ;  not  beiM;^  able  to  know  it,  they  prefer 
to  L;ive  reins  to  the  imagination  and  create  a  theory 
out  of  nothin<5  than  to  oti'er  no  explanation. 

rinvdo.  Whoever  theorizes  ui)on  origin  must 
citlier  assume  tlio  eternity  of  matter  in  a  chaotic  state 
or  else  a  maker ;  if  tlie  former,  tlion  a  designer  of 
spliires  and  organisms  is  wanting;  if  the  latter,  a 
creator  of  the  creator  must  be  found.  This  not  being 
possible,  from  the  beginning  men  liave  gone  on 
deceiving  themselves  with  no  startifig  point  and  no 
ground  to  stand  on,  putting  forth  the  most  absurd 
arguments,  building  magnificent  castles  on  no  founda- 
tion whatever. 

ApoUodonis.  Every  nllgion  and  every  philosophy 
answers  as  well  as  asks  the  question,  VVhat  and 
whence  is  man  ?  Every  barbarian  is  expected  to 
have  ready  his  creed,  every  savage  his  solution  of 
creation  and  the  origin  aiid  dc^stiny  of  man,  every 
faith  its  Ljreat  intellii'ence  and  its  lessstT  intelligences 
by  which  all  things  were  ma(h\  Arguments  upon  the 
vaiious  theories  and  speculations  which  have  been 
advanced  have  derived  their  force  mor(>  from  tlic 
leaining  and  skill  of  the  advocates  than  from  any 
force  of  reason  in  the  positions  taken  ;  and  so  far  as 
tlu!  most  enliglitcned,  unl)inscd  Judgment  can  deter- 
mine, one  hyp(»thesis  is  i)Mt  litth^  nearer  the  truth 
tliau  ant)ther.  Our  own  religious  belief,  the  only  true 
faith,  man's  sole  salvation  in  time  past  and  in  time  to 
come,  wo  learn  to  eln  rish  as  a  truth  fixed  and 
unrliangcablo  as  the  eternal  hills;  and  yet  in  com])ari- 
son  to  tlio  thousands  of  ages  since  the  advent  of  man 
U[)on  the  earth,  all  cree<ls  and  faiths  are  but  of 
yesterday,  and  are,  like  the  eternal  hills,  daily  and 
visibly  und«>rgoing  change. 

Crlif).  That  man  niakes  his  religion  and  is  even 
now  making  it,  we  may  [>luinly  see.     Nations,  and  to 


-  ^ 


720 


PLATO  nrvisED. 


some  extent  individuals,  have  each  their  religion. 
Look  at  the  millions  of  pcnates  in  the  homes  of  Asia, 
every  family  having  its  joss  and  every  hamlet  a  joss- 
liouse.  Were  tliere  one  only  omnipotent  and  omnls- 
tieiit  creator,  the  author  of  all  men,  lover  of  truth  ; 
hater  of  ignorance,  crime  and  human  debasement; 
hater  of  the  wars  and  horrible  deeds  committed  for 
and  in  the  name  of  reliijion ;  were  there  one  onlv 
wise  and  benevolent  father  of  all,  clearly  there  would 
be  but  one  religion.  A  good,  kind,  loving  creator 
could  by  no  possibilitj'^  permit  for  one  moment  the 
stupendcms  evils,  the  woes  and  v>'ickednef:s  attendant 
on  an  ignorance  of  our  oriurin  and  originator, 

riuvdo.  True ;  whether  a  self-created  creator  or 
eternal  matter  evt)lving  into  life  and  intelligence  be 
author  of  all,  the  problem  is  equally  puzzling.  With 
all  the  meditations  and  discussions,  the  quarrellliigs 
and  social  convulsions,  the  slavery  of  soul  and  body, 
and  slau'j[hters  of  innocent  millions  attendant  on  the 
effort  to  ascertain  and  enforce  opmions  concerning 
man's  origin  and  destiny,  we  have  this  reflection  for 
our  consolation  that  not  the  slightest  advance  has 
been  made  from  the  creation  of  the  world  until  now. 
Many  learned  men  think  they  know  the  truth,  and,  as 
they  believe,  preach  it ;  but  it  is  clear  to  an  impartial 
observer  that  they  know  absolutely  nothing,  can  agree 
upon  nothing,  and  are  in  no  way  making  any  ])r()gress, 

Crito.  Is  it  better  to  know  the  truth  or  not  to 
know  it  ? 

Socrates.  Truth  is  better  than  falsehood.  It  is 
wiser  to  know  and  meet  an  unwelcome  truth  than  to 
harbor  and  place  hopes  upon  a  lie. 

Crito.  Is  not  the  Santa  Claus  an  iimocent  fable 
for  children  ? 

Socrates.  The  pleasing  lies  of  religion  may  be 
harmless  if  presented  as  lies;  but  if  presented  as 
truths  they  ])ervert  the  mind,  weaving  round  it  d 
web  of  superstition  which  a  lifetime  is  often  too  short 
to  clear  away. 


o 


o 


Cr 
and  fc 
Sac 
gion, 
knowi 
men 

Phr 
idea 
Sc, 
laws 

PJui 

nature, 

which 

been    I 

superns 

omnipo 

to  play 

Socra 

trarj'-,  ir 

never  ej 

turies  a< 

some  re 

Pfued( 

Socrai 

What  w 

we  call  I 

its  cause 

The   sui 

thunder, 

supernat 

as  scienc 

is  yet  to 

spirits  to 

chemicali 

and   the 

unproved 

Plisedo. 

ties  whog 


PLATO  REVISED. 


721 


Criio.  If  the  world  is  ever  to  hug  its  falsehoods 
and  follies,  how  is  there  ever  to  be  progress  ? 

Socrates.  There  is  no  intellectual  progress  in  reli- 
gion, except  in  casting  it  off.  When  nature  is  fully 
known  there  will  be  no  more  supernatural ;  when 
men  become  as  gods  there  will  be  no  more  religion. 

Phrdo.  Socrates,  may  I  ask,  what  is  the  general 
idea  of  the  supernatural  ? 

Scrr  lies.  That  which  is  above  or  outside  of  the 
laws  of  nature. 

Phsedo.  Man  made  the  gods  and  the  gods  made 
nature,  giving  fixed  and  unutterable  laws  thereto, 
which  to  the  best  of  our  knowledge  have  never  onco 
been  broken  or  suspended.  Now  who  made  tho 
supernatural ;  or  was  it  something  left  over  after 
omnipotence  had  made  nature,  that  he  might  have  it 
to  play  with,  to  do  with  just  as  he  pleased  ? 

Socrates.  No  such  quality  is  known  ;  on  the  con- 
trary, increase  of  knowledge  only  dispels  superstitions, 
never  establishing  one  of  them,  although  a  few  cen- 
turies ago  the  world  was  full  of  them,  and  there  are 
some  remaining  yet. 

Pluedo.     Is  there  then  no  supernatural  ? 

Socrates.  None  whatever  so  far  as  discerned. 
What  we  know  we  call  natural ;  what  we  know  not 
we  call  supernatural ;  but  when  the  supernatural  in 
its  cause  and  effect  is  explained,  it  becomes  natural. 
The  sun,  and  stars,  and  sky,  the  interior  earth, 
thunder,  lightning,  storm,  and  pestilence,  all  lately 
supernatural,  are  now  natural ;  and  so  the  rest  will  be 
as  science  continues  to  dispel  illusions.  The  telescope 
is  yet  to  be  invented  which  shall  bring  ghosts  and 
spirits  to  the  eye  of  common-sense  and  reason  ;  the 
chemicals  have  yet  to  be  niixed  for  an  actual  miracle, 
and  the  first  answer  to  prayer  remains  as  yet 
unproved. 

Plisedo.  Will  not  any  one  of  the  numberless  divini- 
ties whose  attributes  and  deeds  are  recorded  in  the 

B8BAY8  AND  MI8CKU.ANY     46 


il  :1 


722 


PLATO  REVISED. 


sacred  books  ever  establish  a  kingdom  of  the  super- 
natural ? 

Socrates.  When  such  an  appearance  presents  itself 
to  my  senses  and  reason,  these  not  failing  me,  I  shall 
apprehend  it.  Until  something  supernatural  is  once 
brought  home  to  my  mind  so  that  it  shall  appear  to 
it  as  outside  or  beyond  the  control  of  nature,  I  shall 
feel  myself  obliged  to  refer  all  unexplained  phe- 
nomena to  the  category  of  things  not  yet  known,  and 
an}'  pretended  explanation  thereof  to  the  other  cate- 
gory of  fraud  and  superstition. 

Phsedo.  You,  O  Socrates,  who  prize  virtue  before 
doctrine,  and  with  whom  knowledge  is  akin  to  hap- 
piness, tell  me,  I  pray  you,  how  distinguish  wisdom 
and  religion  ? 

Socrates.  Wisdom  is  the  knowledge  of  nature  ; 
religion  the  recognition  of  and  obedience  to  the  forces 
of  nature. 

Plksedo.     AxsA  where  there  are  many  religions? 

Socrates.  Creeds  are  many ;  religions  are  one.  To 
think  correctly  and  act  honestly  is  the  sum  of  all 
religions.  Righteousness  and  love  are  the  basis  of  all 
moralities.  To  live  a  life  of  justice  and  temperance 
is  to  rise  superior  to  all  creeds,  or  render  useless 
prayers  for  personal  favors  with  every  kind  of  stored 
selfishness. 

Phscdo.     What  is  prayer  ? 

Socrates.  Prayer  is  an  effort  on  the  part  of  the 
creature  to  influence  his  creator,  an  eflbrt  on  the  part 
of  the  changeable  to  turn  from  his  purpose  the 
unchangeable,  an  effort  on  the  part  of  the  ignorant 
and  sinful  to  bring  the  author  of  all  wisdom  and 
righteousness  to  conform  to  the  creature's  conceptions 
of  duty  and  morality. 

Plato.  Nay,  more ;  if  the  world  and  all  its  ways 
are  not  as  they  should  be,  if  all  that  is  is  not  right, 
if  might  is  not  right,  if  evil  is  not  good,  and  injustice 
the  purest  equity,  then  an  appeal  to  the  author  of  all 
to  revolutionize  affairs  and  improve  upon  himself  is 


PLATO  REVISED. 


78d 


reducing  omnipotence,  omniscience,  and  all-holiness  to 
most  contemptible  proportions. 

Crito.     Give  us  your  definition  of  reli«j;ion,  Plato. 

Plato.     Religion  is  the  attempted  circumvention  of 
the  unknowable. 

Crito.     How  does  it  originate  ? 

Plato.     Throuorh  fear. 

Crito.     What  is  its  aim  ? 

Plato.     The  highest,  holiest,  and  purest  selfishness. 

Crito,  Socrates,  if  man  makes  his  gods,  of  what  is 
he  afraid  ? 

Socrates.  He  does  not  know  that  he  makes  them  ; 
he  thinks  that  chey  made  him. 

Crito.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  sanctified  selfishness 
is  the  root  of  all  religion. 

Phxdo.     What  is  the  highest  morality  ? 

Socrates.  An  enlightened  selfishness.  That  man 
is  moral  who  follows  his  true  interests. 

Plixdo.  You  agree  with  Crito  that  selfishness  is 
the  root  of  all  religion  ? 

Socrates.     Yes. 

Plaio.  How  then  do  morality  and  religion  differ 
in  this  respect  ? 

Socrates.  Morality  is  enlightened  selfishness,  reli- 
gion unenlightened  selfishness. 

Pluedo.  Are  all  the  highest  and  holiest  affections 
of  man  based  on  selfishness  ? 

Socrates.  If  there  is  any  idea,  sentiment,  passion, 
feeling,  hope,  or  aspiration  in  heaven  or  earth,  in  the 
human  or  the  divine  breast,  which  traced  back  to  its 
source  and  followed  on  to  its  consummation  does  not 
begin  and  end  in  selfishness,  I  have  yet  to  discover  it. 

Plisedo.     What  is  man's  highest  good  ? 

Socrates.  To  know  the  knowable,  and  bow  before 
the  unknowable  without  pretending  to  fathom  it. 

Phxdo,     What  is  holiness  ? 

Socrates.  Conducting  ourselves  in  accord  with  our 
surroundings  ;  and  this  also  is  jut^tice,  goodness,  and 
truth. 


{■: 


724 


PLATO  REVISED. 


Phasdo.  Pray  tell  me,  O  Socrates  I  What  are 
progress,  civilization,  evolution  ? 

Socrates.  They  belong  to  the  unexplained  mys- 
teries. 

Plisedo.  The  several  religionists  claim  each  that 
it  is  the  child  of  their  faith ;  that  outside  of  their 
system  there  is  no  increase  of  knowledge. 

Socrates.  That  cannot  be ;  for  it  is  well  known 
that  the  whole  strength  of  every  religion  is  employed 
to  crush  independent  thought  and  hamper  progress. 
Science  opens  the  door  of  nature  and  spreads  before 
the  understanding  of  men  the  beauties  and  mysteries 
of  the  universe,  while  faith  closes  the  eyes  that  the 
heart  may  receive  unreal  assurance  and  the  mind 
vain  imaginings. 

PliR'do.     Is  progress  the  offspring  of  good  or  evil  ? 

Socrates.  Of  both.  Good  and  evil  are  to  intellect- 
ual progress  what  attraction  and  repulsion  are  to  the 
equipoise  of  planets  and  the  evolution  of  material 
tilings.  If  in  human  nature  there  was  but  one  prin- 
cijtle,  progress  never  could  be  generated. 

Plato.  From  friction  comes  heat,  and  from  heat 
mentality.  From  mutual  helpfulness  and  antagonisms 
coine  ethical  as  well  as  naturri  evolution. 

Phsedo.    Were  all  religions  one,  would  religion  die  ? 

Socrates,  There  is  but  one  religion.  Dogmas  die, 
and  the  world  can  well  spare  them  ;  but  religion,  or 
the  recognition  of  the  true  and  beautiful  in  nature, 
can  never  die  so  long  as  intelligence  lasts,  and  the 
objects  of  its  fear,  love,  hate,  and  admiration  cease  to 
exist. 

Phxdo.  But  surely  refined  religion  is  an  aid  to 
progress. 

Socrates.  So  it  is  usually  maintained  ;  but  history 
teaches  the  contrary.  As  a  rule,  people  low  in  the 
scale  of  intelligence  are  the  most  religious,  and  when 
their  religion  becomes  well  refined  there  is  but  little 
loft  of  it.  In  due  time  they  ascertain  that  they  must 
either  renounce  progress  or  renounce  a  religion  which 


iilin 


PLATO  REVISED. 


78B 


hampers  progress.  But  progress  is  omnipotent,  uni- 
versal, and  eternal,  and  will  not  be  restrained. 
Progress  is  God.  Your  manufactured  creeds,  if  you 
do  not  renounce  them,  will  in  due  time  renounce  vou. 

Plixdo.  The  world  still  lies  sunk  in  error,  all  based 
upon  supposed  self-interest. 

Socrates.  It  is  the  peculiarity  of  persons  strong  in 
the  faith,  that,  believing  their  religion  to  be  the  only 
true  one,  and  under  the  exclusive  protection  of  the 
almighty,  it  will  in  time  overturn  all  its  enemies,  and 
fill  the  whole  earth.  Such  is  not  the  testimony  of 
history.  Religions  come  and  go;  like  all  things  else 
are  born  and  die.  Were  it  otherwise,  why  is  it 
that  the  only  true  faith,  whatever  that  is,  has  not 
long  ere  tliis  achieved  universality  ?  Why  is  it  that 
it  has  not  ahvavs  been  one  and  universal  ?  Time 
enough  surely  has  elapsed,  and  there  has  been  no 
lack  of  op[Mtrtunity ;  but  in  every  instance  when  a 
refined  people,  witli  the  most  refined  religion,  have 
reached  a  certain  point,  they  begin  to  fall  away  from 
it,  and  their  gods  vanish  into  tliin  air. 

Crito.  So,  then,  if  there  be  only  one  true  theory 
of  the  supernatural,  as  every  religionist  claims,  the 
thousand  others  being  false,  as  all  agree,  palpable 
reality,  its  essence  and  influence,  is  as  plain  in  one  as 
in  another,  and  from  their  effect  on  man,  and  the 
regulation  of  terrestrial  affairs,  the  existence  of  one 
is  as  susceptible  «)f  proof  as  that  of  another. 

Phfvdo.  That  is  clear.  The  religion  of  others  to 
us  is  a  liugo  joke.  Our  own  is  quite  a  different  mat- 
ter. For  example,  when  wo  read  how  Pronietheus 
made  man  out  of  nmd,  after  the  deluge  of  Deucalion, 
Minerva  helping  hini,  Jui)iter  standing  by  issuing  the 
orders,  and  the  wind  blowiuij  into  the  thinyr  the 
breath  of  life,  the  serpent  Python  being  made  of  the 
f-ame  mud,  which  was  very  plentiful  about  that  time, 
we  wonder  how  people  so  learned  and  intelligent  as 
the  Greeks  could  have  believed  such  stuff. 

Crito.     The  Egyptians  were  considerate  enough  to 


728 


PLATO  REVISED. 


create  a  deity  for  their  dogs,  which,  like  the  cats, 
were  sacred  in  that  section,  thus  saving  the  very 
ancient  and  honorable  society  for  the  prevention  of 
cruelty  to  animals  much  trouble  along  the  Nile. 
Anubis,  he  was  called  ;  and  no  doubt  the  dogs  of 
Egypt  took  much  comfort  in  him,  howling  to  him 
nightly  for  plenty  to  eat  here,  and  after  this  life  a 
high  place  in  his  heaven  ;  fighting  for  him,  cliasing 
away  his  enemies,  and  thanking  their  masters  always 
for  giving  them  so  great  a  hope  of  eternal  comfort. 

Socrates.  Of  necessity  man  must  make  his  own 
gods,  and  upon  his  own  model.  He  has  no  other 
way  to  get  them,  and  no  other  standard  to  go  by. 
Never  having  seen  a  god,  never  having  heard  or 
handled  one,  never  having  seen  any  one  who  has 
seen,  or  heard,  or  handled  a  deity,  and  himself  and 
his  attributes  being  his  highest  conception  of  any 
personality  or  entity,  finite  or  infinite,  organic  or 
inorganic,  his  gods  must  be  like  himself,  only  an 
exaggeration  of  him^alf.  This  is  why  there  are  so 
many  mean  gods ;  it  is  because  there  are  so  many 
mean  men.  If  they  make  their  gods  better  than 
themselves  in  some  respects,  tliey  are  sure  to  make 
them  worse  in  other  respects.  Mark  the  record, 
choosing  any  holy  book  you  will ;  when  the  people 
are  puerile,  their  god  is  puerile  ;  when  the  people  arc 
cruel  or  base,  their  god  is  the  same.  It  is  the  most 
difficult  thing  in  the  world,  after  beginning  a  god, 
the  intention  being  to  make  a  very  good  one,  the 
best  one  possible  for  man  to  make,  to  finish  it  with- 
out spoiling  it ;  that  is,  to  finish  it  and  have  every 
part  perfect  in  every  respect.  It  must  be  onmiscient 
and  omnipotent,  and  yet  must  not  know  or  be  able  to 
do  certain  things  which  the  all-wise  and  all-kind  ought 
to  know  and  do.  The  world  of  wickedness,  and  sor- 
row, and  crime  must  be  accounted  for  in  some  way, 
for  it  exists ;  God's  authorship  therein  must  in  the 
same  breath  be  affirmed  and  denied,  for  although  the 
author  of  all  things,  it  will  not  do  to  acknowledge 


PLATO  REVISED. 


727 


ge 


the  creator  the  author  of  evil.  And  so  on,  until  of  a 
truth  the  creator  is  by  the  creature  fearfully  and 
wonderfully  made. 

Plisedo,  In  any  event  the  men  of  Athens  had 
little  to  boast  of  in  their  gods.  They  know  better 
now,  if  they  know  anything ;  and  if  still  existing,  I 
venture  to  say,  they  have  no  better  place  than  this. 

Crito.  I  suppose  it  is  safe  to  call  the  Olympian 
deities  savages;  that  is  to  say,  they  were  not  civilized 
gods,  although  the  men  who  made  them  were  at 
the  time  accounted  the  most  civilized  of  any  upon 
the  earth.  Taken  all  together,  Jupiter,  Juno,  and  the 
rest  wore  a  pretty  bad  Tot.  They  could  not  read  or 
write ;  in  arts  and  industries  they  were  woefully 
deficient,  being  too  ignorant  or  too  lazy  to  make  for 
themselves  clothes  that  would  fairly  cover  their 
nakedness,  though  Arachno  was  so  proud  of  her  talents 
in  that  direction  that  she  challenged  Minerva  to  com- 
pete with  her.  They  wore  liars,  murderers,  and 
everything  that  was  vile,  breaking  with  impunity  all 
the  laws  of  heaven  and  earth ;  they  were  heavenly 
vagabonds,  having  no  visible  means  of  support,  celes- 
tial tramps,  whom  the  great  tliundorer  had  often  to 
order  to  move  along.  They  fed  well  and  drank  well ; 
what  else  they  did,  following  the  bent  of  their 
passions,  it  is  not  lawful  or  respectable  even  to  con- 
template. 

Pluvdo.  And  how  abominably  jealous  Juno  was 
toward  other  women,  fully  as  bad  as  earthly  women 
toward  each  other — tormenting  lo  with  a  gadfly  that 
made  her  wild  as  she  rushed  round  the  earth  to  get 
away  from  it  1  But  then  Jupiter  was  such  a  naughty 
fellow,  and  given  to  all  sorts  of  tricks.  Think  of  his 
causing  Echo  to  talk  incessantly  to  Juno  so  as  to  keep 
her  attention  diverted  while  he  sported  with  the 
nymphs  ? 

Crito.  And  what  thieves  they  were,  those  gods ! 
Not  kind  Prometheus,  who,  in  a  hollow  tube  stole  fire 
from  heaven  because  the  father  of  the  gods,  out  of 


i^il 


ill'' 
i    '  i 

lili: 


i  Hi' 


WW!, 

iii 


796 


PLATO  REVISED. 


revenge,  withheld  it  from  mortals.  Why,  indeed, 
should  mortals  make  such  a  father  for  their  gods? 
Not  Prometheus,  then,  but  that  cunning  rascal, 
Hermes ;  and  he  who  stole  nectar  and  ambrosia  from 
the  table,  Tantalus,  and  gave  them  to  his  fellows — a 
kind  of  sneakthief,  he. 

Phsedo.  Atlanta,  the  swift-footed,  might  doom  to 
death  him  whom  she  outstripped,  while  he  who  caught 
her  might  take  his  pay  in  what  best  pleased  him.  Did 
Atlanta  love  nmrder  more  than  she  hated  love  ? 

Crito.  Apollo  wished  some  wickedness  with  Cas- 
sandra, and  presented  her  the  gift  of  prophecy  as  the 
l)rice  of  her  favor ;  but  when  she  refused,  the  god  in 
spite  decreed  that  no  one  should  believe  her.  Fre- 
quently half  a  dozen  gods  would  desire  one  woman, 
and  fall  to  fighting  over  her ;  indeed,  it  seemed  to  be 
the  sum  of  existence  with  the  Olympian  deities  to 
eat,  drink,  sleep,  plot  mischief,  and  quarrel.  What 
work  Athena  made  of  it  to  change  Medusa's  hair  into 
serpents,  and  in  such  a  way  that  whoever  beheld  it 
afterward  was  transformed  to  stone  I 

Phiedo.  Nor  had  the  people  any  hesitation  in  ask- 
ing their  gods,  knowing  the  way  they  passed  their 
time  in  heaven,  to  assist  them  in  their  evil  efforts  the 
same  as  in  their  good  desires,  worshippers  of  the  same 
being,  on  coming  together  to  fight  and  kill  each  other, 
both  asking  for  victory,  which  is  impossible  even  for 
omnipotence  to  grant. 


Socrates.  I  would  ask  you,  Plato,  as  you  have 
kept  awake  somewhat  while  I  have  slept,  how  much 
dependence  it  is  wise  for  men  to  place  upon  the  several 
so-called  holy  books,  which  profess  to  emanate  from 
the  gods,  and  tell  the  origin  and  end  of  things ?  All 
of  them  cannot  be  true,  as  they  contradict  each  other, 
as  well  as  themselves,  from  first  to  last.  Each  claims 
alone  to  be  what  it  pretends,  all  the  others  being  lies 
and  the  emanations  of  evil.  As  in  the  case  of  reli- 
gions, there  are  ten  or  more  of  these  books  held  in 


PLATO  REVISED. 


729 


the  acrgrcf^ate  over  the  heads  of  the  greater  part  of 
men  inhabiting  the  civiHzed  world,  it  follows  from 
their  own  showing  that  more  than  nine-tenths  of  all 
who  have  ever  lived  upon  the  earth  were  doomed  to 
destruction.  In  ail  of  these  books,  with  much  truth 
and  sound  morality,  is  mingled  the  supernatural.  One 
is  as  easy  of  belief  as  another,  none  of  them  from 
their  own  showing  being  of  the  slightest  credence, 
because  they  require  men  to  believe,  on  the  mere 
assertion  of  tradition,  of  empty  air  sounds,  and  the 
statements  of  ignorant  and  deluded  m(>n,  what  tliey 
know  to  be  impossible,  and  what  bears  upon  the  face 
the  impress  of  untruth. 

Plato.  Heaven  help  us,  Socrates,  how  you  talk  ! 
First  let  us  ask  how  these  books  are  made.  Every 
nation  far  enough  advanced  has  its  sacred  book,  a 
crude  combination  of  legal  and  religious  ethics,  half 
mythology,  half  morality,  all  done  ages  ago,  when 
men  were  more  ignorant  and  superstitious  than  now  ; 
and  all  of  these  half-savage  traditions  are  ever  to  be 
held  holy  above  all  truth,  spiritual  worship  cjuv lining 
the  intellect  of  man  long  after  reason  tells  him  it  is  a 
lie.  All  of  these  books  claim  to  have  a  divine  origin 
— to  be  inspired.  What  that  may  be,  when  this  same 
divinity  professes  to  be  the  origin  of  all  things,  and 
by  its  will  and  power  to  vitalize  and  inspire  all  things, 
the  wicked  as  well  as  the  righteous,  I  will  not  at  this 
moment  discuss;  suffice  it  to  say  that  under  this  same 
inspiration,  I  exist,  act,  think  ;  by  the  breath  of  this 
same  divinity  I  am  now  speaking  to  you,  O  Socrates. 
If  by  inspiration  and  divine  origin  we  arc  to  under- 
stand that  these  books,  or  any  one  of  them,  is  written 
by  the  hand  of  omniscience,  by  an  all-wise  and  truth- 
telUng  God,  then  upon  the  face  of  them  they  are 
every  one  false,  for  they  are  full  of  self-contradictions 
and  errors  regarding  the  physical  world,  besides 
inculcating  within  certain  limits  immorality,  injustice, 
treachery,  and  cruelty.    In  other  words,  like  all  early 


ii 


lil'lti^ 


730 


PLATO  REVISED. 


unrecorded  traditions,  they  are  made  up  of  mingled 
fact  and  fiction. 

Evenus.     To  some  comes  belief  by  intuition. 

Criio.     To  some  comes  non-belief  bv  intuition. 

Socrates.  Let  me  ask  you,  Evenus,  what  is  inspi- 
ration ? 

Evenus.  In  this  connection,  the  breath  of  tho 
almighty,  overspreading  the  mind,  and  working  in 
the  hearts  of  men. 

Socrates.  Is  not  all  the  world,  and  are  not  all  men 
so  made  and  so  upheld  ? 

Evenus.     I  suppose  so. 

Socrates.  Then  every  human  heart  and  mind,  every 
blade  of  grass  and  flower,  every  slimy  reptile  and 
noxious  insect,  every  thief  and  murderer — all  are 
alike  inspired,  all  being  alike  made  and  upheld  by 
God,  in  his  infinite  wisdom  and  loving  kindness,  for 
the  alleged  beiiefit  of  man. 

Evemis.     The  term  is  not  so  used. 

Then,  I  ask  again,  what  is  inspiration  ? 

Endowing  man  with  a  knowledge  of  God. 

Were    it   not    better  all   men  were   so 

that  they  might  know  their  maker  and 


Socrates. 
Evemis. 
Socrates. 
endowed. 


serve  him  better  ? 

Evenus.     It  was  not  so  ordained. 

Soci'ate,s.  I  fail  to  find  any  evidence  that  what  you 
call  inspiration  in  man  is  anything  more  than  ordinary 
intelligence,  or  that  any  one  person  was  ever  endowed 
with  a  divine  afflatus  in  a  greater  degree  than  any 
other  person. 

Plucdo.  Pray,  then,  interpret  to  us  inspiration,  O 
Socrates,  who  art  thyself  in8[)ired. 

Socrates.  As  the  cooling  earth  sent  forth  ever- 
green trees,  and  the  blooming  of  vegetation  began, 
man  with  nature  became  inspired ;  and  when  over 
the  beautiful  landscape  the  grass  appeared,  and  the 
flowers  became  fairer,  and  birds  sang,  and  all  the 
world  was  a  poem,  the  poet  appeared,  poem  and  poet 
alike  inspired. 


PLATO  REVISED. 


711 


Pluedo.  In  the  early  religions  was  a  proplietic  and 
an  apocalyptic  literature,  which  forever  after  were 
strained  to  tit  various  times,  personages,  and  evtiits. 
Meaningless  sayings  and  unfultilled  predictions  were 
at  tlie  same  time  so  twisted  as  to  give  to  the  wonis 
some  significance  other  than  their  true  or  usual  one. 
If  by  any  means,  in  the  hands  of  skilful  interpreters, 
one  in  fifty  of  the  old-time  wild  asseverations  came 
true,  it  was  enough  to  convince  the  unthinking  of  tlio 
validity  of  them  all. 

Socrates.  Men  work  away  like  pnts  in  a  dung-hill 
to  determine  the  truths  of  their  religion  ;  but  they 
determine  nothing,  apparently  make  no  headway,  and 
certainly  will  never  be  able  to  achieve  tlie  slightest 
result  until  now  light  breaks  in  from  son)c  quarter. 
Nevertheless,  so  e«ger  are  they  to  reach  conclusions 
that  they  jump  at  tliem,  having  no  proof  or  rtasm. 
As  to  origin,  we  know  tlic  origin  of  nothing,  neitli(  r 
of  man,  the  almighty,  nor  of  a  single  ati-m.  Wo 
know  nothing  of  what  is,  of  what  was,  of  what  will 
be.  Men  talk  about  the  fundamental  truths  of 
religion,  the  existence  and  attributes  of  the  creator, 
the  immortality  of  the  soul,  the  future  state,  and  so 
forth,  teaching  them  to  their  children,  opening  schools 
and  employing  books  and  professors  for  the  purpo.se, 
when  they  know  and  can  know  absolutely  nothing. 
It  is  more  than  time  wasted,  this  teaching  as  truth 
what  at  best  is  but  speculation. 

Plato.  Man  is  born  under  the  dominion  of  some 
unknown  and  unknowable  power  or  powers  ;  and  in 
his  efforts  to  fathom  and  explain  the  nature  of  this 
force  he  is  led  into  all  sorts  of  theologies  and  theo- 
ries. In  the  absence  of  knowledge  he  invents,  reiter- 
ating his  fancies,  weaving  them  into  fables,  until 
in  due  time  they  become  fastened  upon  the  minds  of 
nations  in  the  form  of  religions.  The  mighty  powers 
of  nature,  the  governing  influences  which  originate 
thought  and  action,  ruling  despotically  the  minute 
aflfairs  of  every -day  hfe  as  well  as  those  great  princi- 


732 


PLATO  REVISED. 


; 


])lcs  wliicli  determine  his  destiny,  lie  seeks  to  propi- 
tiate with  prayers  and  offerings.  He  woultl  bribe 
onuiipotence  to  befriend  hiin  ;  and  that  his  darlc  and 
narrow  mind  ina}^  better  comjassthe  difficulties  which 
biset  him,  he  resolves  these  various  forces  into  deities, 
one  or  several.  Even  thoufjh  unconscious  of  the 
existence  of  that  subtle  power  which  subordinates  to 
its  laws  every  movement  of  a  muscle,  every  pulsation 
of  the  heart,  every  wave  of  thoujjjht.  lie  acts  under  it  ; 
or  awakeninj^  to  the  fact  he  finds  the  imniediatc  cause 
ujoverned  by  some  other  cause  lyiiiii;  back  of  it,  and 
that  by  another  still  more  remote;  so  that  in  the  end 
he  is  forced  to  confess  himself  ruled  by  those  very 
iiiHuences  over  which  he  once  fancied  Jiimself  to  hold 
absolute  control. 

Socrdfrs.  It  is  plain  that  the  forces  of  nature 
intimidate  man,  bringing  him  to  his  knees,  and  throw- 
in;^  him  into  numberless  absurd  pl)ysical  and  mental 
contortions,  but  the  forces  underlviiiLT  human  associ- 
tion  are  not  so  easily  followed,  or  so   t>;reatly  feai'ed. 

Pldto.  We  see  in  the  (»rdinary  walks  of  life  actu- 
ating princi[)les  which  govern  individuals  in  their 
respective  occupations.  One  pursues  wealth,  another 
honor,  another  pleasure,  and  another  religion.  Wealth, 
honor,  pleasure,  or  religion  tlien  beconu's  the  grand 
master,  the  governor,  or  ruler  of  the  individual.  For 
the  accom[)lishment  of  this  jturpose  a  thousand  means 
are  necessary,  each  one  of  which  becomes  a  subonli- 
nate  ruler.  Sometimes  all  are  pursued  coordinately, 
and  then  the  rulers  are  [jroportionately  increased. 
Those  wlu)  deny  that  the  ordinary  interests  of  life 
hold  dominion  over  them  are  none  the  K'ss  slaves ; 
for  t(^  possess  none  of  the  n(>l)ler  asj)i rations  of  life  is 
to  abandon  one's  self  to  vice,  the  mo>t  cruel  and  arbi- 
trary of  masters.  These  governing  impulses,  there- 
fore, sonu!  stronger  and  some  weaker,  as  the  case  may 
be,  are  multi[)lied  indefinitely,  and  increased  in  pro- 
portion to  the  activity  of  the  brain,  the  healthfuhiess 
of  the  body,  and  the  hmgings  of  the  heart ;  so  tliat 


11 


PLATO  REVISED. 


:^3 


y 


each  particle  of  wliich  tlie  essence  of  human  existence 
is  coin[K)se(l  is  a  law  unto  itself,  acting  upon  the  mind 
of  the  individual  so  as  to  produce  Hxed  and  deter- 
mined results.  We  sec  then  that  it  is  the  will  of  man 
at  tlic  outset  innnediately  to  place  his  freedom  in  tlie 
hands  of  a  keeper;  nay,  it  is  his  imperative  necessity 
so  to  do,  for  if  he  refuses  to  be  the  slave  of  vice  lie 
becomes  the  servant  of  virtue.  If  in  the  exercise  of 
his  free  will  he  fi'jjhts  against  and  overcomes  avarice 
and  ambition,  instantaneously  charity  ;.'id  patriotism 
become  his  rulers,  and  the  will  may  not,  and  does  not 
act  freely,  but  only  in  accordance  with  the  dictates  of 
the  master  passion. 

Phivdi).  Superstition  is  based  on  the  evils  which 
surround  us. 

Crilo.  And  so  the  Veda  hymns  praises  to  wind, 
clouds,  and  fire. 

Phrdo.  Pray  enlighten  me,  O  Socrates  1  Is  it 
wisdom  for  man  to  use  his  reason  in  matters  of 
religion,  or  should  he  rely  on  tradition,  on  feeling,  on 
faith,  on  the  teachings  of  priests,  and  the  general 
opinions  of  mankind  ? 

Socrates.  By  my  soul,  good  Ph;edo,  I  almost  won- 
der you  can  ask  so  silly  a  question;  and  yet  I  do  n()t 
wonder  when  I  consi<ler  thn  foolishness  and  stupidity 
of  mankind,  and  In  %>  tl>cy  toil  to  mystify  each  other, 
subvert  the  truth,  and  ape  the  gods  in  making 
somethinix  out  of  nothinu:.  You  ask,  is  it  wisdom 
for  man  to  use  his  reason  as  a>j:ainst  sentiment  and 
traditif)!!  ? 

Pliii'do.     Yes. 

Socrates.     Is  it  better  to  be  a  man  or  a  brute  ? 

PItirdo.  Being  a  man,  I  say  it  is  better  to  be  a 
man ;  were  I  a  brute,  perha}is  I  might  prefer  remain- 
ing a  brute. 

Socrafe.'<.  Very  well.  Being  a  man,  you  prefer  to 
remain  a  man.  Now  what  are  the  leadinjj:  character- 
istics  distinguishing  men  from  brutes? 


<  ■  I 


m 


734 


PIATO  REVISED. 


Pli,r(Jo,  Intellect,  the  faculties  of  speech,  sequences 
of  thouglit,  and  reason. 

SiKratcs.     By  wliat  arc  beasts  cliiefly  governed  ? 

riiii'do.     By  instinct  and  feeling. 

Socratet^.  Is  the  quality  of  instinct  nearer  akin  to 
the  intellect  and  the  reasoning  faculties  of  men,  or  to 
sentiment,  tradition,  and  physical  environment? 

riinih.  To  th(.'  latter  ;  man  cannot  be  guided  by 
feeling  and  tradition  unless  he  chooses  to  lay  aside 
his  reason,  and  descend  to  the  level  of  the  brute. 

><<)(rat(s.  True,  Beason  b(>iiig  the  highest  faculty 
of  man,  is  it  not  insane  ever  to  lay  it  aside,  partic- 
ularly in  dealing  with  questions  so  momentous  as 
eteiiiMl  hap|iiness  and  misery  ? 

J1i;i'il(>.      It  certainly  would  seem  so. 

Sncrafcii.  If  man  ever  needs  his  faculty  of  reason, 
wliieh  lifts  him  out  of  the  brute  category,  and  phu  es 
him  lieside  the  gods,  it  is  when  called  Uj)on  to  inter- 
])iet  and  understand  the  teachings  of  the  gods.  By 
Jupiter!  I  liokl  it  an  insult  to  the  gods  for  men  to 
employ  tluMr  leason  in  all  things  exce])t  in  their  inter- 
course with  them,  when  they  deem  it  necessaiy  to 
play  the  part  of  a  brute.  For  in  all  matti'rs  except 
religion  he  who  will  not  consul  this  reason  and  be 
guidt'd  by  common  sense  is  Justly  condemned  as  a 
fool,  an  idiot,  and  left  to  suffer  the  jienaltics  of  his 
stu])idity  \vithout  sympathy.  I^ut  religion's  highest 
meiit.  britiLjing  the  highest  reward,  is  that  blind 
ae(pii(>seenee  in  the  fictitious  and  fantastic  ideas  and 
assertions  of  half-savage  or  half-witted  dreamers  of 
remotest  ages,  called  at  the  present  day  faith,  beliif 
Not  only  has  man  the  right  to  use  his  reason,  but  it 
is  his  bounden  duty  to  do  so — to  appeal  to  it  always, 
and  abide  by  its  decision.  Without  reason  there  (an 
be  no  moral  sense,  no  conscience,  no  reliijion.  All 
animals  have  instincts  and  wea])ons  b}'  means  of  which 
they  secure  food  and  protect  life.  Man's  reason  is 
his  life's  protector,  his  sftul's  salvation,  antl  if  he  does 
not  make  use  of  his  reason  and  abide  by  its  mandates 


PLATO  REVISED. 


rso 


1.0 

IS  a 

liis 

icst 

iiid 

luid 

•sof 

•iii'f. 

it  it 

iiys, 

(at) 

All 

lich 

n   is 

docs 

ates 


he  is  justly,  and  without  sympathy  doonuHl  to  per- 
dition, any  conception  of  free-will  and  necessity  to 
the  contrary  notwithstanding. 

Apollodorns.  Perillus  invented  a  new  kind  of  pun- 
ishment, a  brazen  bull,  with  a  door  through  which 
victims  to  bo  roasted  were  thrust.  This  was  fit>e- 
will.  l*halaris,  tyrant  of  Agrigentum,  was  greatly 
pleased  by  the  machine,  and  ordered  its  merits  tested 
on  the  p(!rson  of  the  inventor.     This  was  nec(^ssity. 

EirniiK.  That  knowli'dge  of  God  for  which  all  men 
strive  is  beyond  tjio  sphere  of  reason  to  attain. 

Soci'dtcs.  No  knowledge  of  any  kind  was  ever 
attained  outside  tlie  sphere  of  reason.  It  is  alone  by 
the  faeultic^s  of  sense  and  reason  that  we  can  appre- 
hend anvtiiing,  natural  or  supernatural;  without  their 
use  W(!  can  recognize  ni^ither  the  voice  of  (Jod 
nor  the  voi<'(;  of  nature;  W(;  can  ent(>rtain  neither 
belii'f  nor  disbelief  in  oriy-inal  sin  f)r  inimoitalitv. 
The  same  faculties  whose  use  are  forbidden  in  tilings 
spiritual  we  must  employ  even  in  our  belief,  if  we 
believe, 

I'jir)nif<.  But  reason  may  bo  restricted,  the  senses 
limited;  there  may  be  mor*'  in  heaven  and  eartii  tlian 
man's  p(Tceptive  faculties  can  encomi.ass. 

Sorrdfrs.      How  so? 

h'l'i  litis.  For  instance;  the  horse  that  draws  me 
to  the  temple  of  music  has  (^yes  and  ears,  and  reason 
to  some  extent,  but  standiii'^  every  night  at  the  door 
it  has  little  conception  of  the  performance^  within,  nor 
can  it  have.  It  lacks  the  necessary  |>erce])tive  facul- 
titis.  So  man  inay  lack  some  sense  possessed  by  other 
biMUgs  whom  he  cannot  see  or  know,  and  whose  per- 
ceptive faculties  as  nmch  sui'pass  his  own  as  do  tlio 
latter  those  of  brutes. 

Sncrafra.  Possibly;  and  yet  if  rensf  n  and  my 
senses  are  mv  guides,  I  can  in  nowise  Ik  l.'ld  nspon- 
sible  for  what  exi.sts  beyond  the  realm  of  their  vision, 
any  more  than  the  horse  can  be  held  resi)onsible  for 
not  appreciating  music. 


I 
I'll  I 

111 


736 


PLATO  REVISED. 


Plato.  We  may  as  well  discard,  once  for  all,  the 
sentiment  tliat  there  are  thin«4s  in  heaven  and  earth 
not  njeant  for  us  now  to  know;  that  we  have 
been  endowed  with  a  discrimination  which  is  to  be 
used  ui)  to  a  lertain  point  and  then  diopped,  a  d<'Coc- 
tion  of  tradition  and  blind  fuith  to  be  emjtloyod  as  a 
substitute.  Our  intelligence,  if  not  always  a  <j[uide, 
is  no  j^uido.  As  the  hitherto  hidden  opens  to  our 
perceptions,  reason  takes  possession;  meanwhile  we 
will  not  account  it  wisdom  to  insist  on  a  belief  in  the 
unknowable. 

Crito.  Amid  so  many  conflicting  ideas,  oiiinions, 
doctrines,  and  beliefs,  how  are  we  to  tell  right  and 
wrong,  good  and  bad,  moralit}  and  immorality? 

IS<)irak'(i.  Keliijionists  refer  you  each  to  his  holv 
book,  and  tlK't;ce  to  conscience. 

Crito.  But  none  of  these  satisfy  comnK>n  sense 
and  n^ason,  while  conscience  we  know  is  purely  a 
manufactured  article. 

P/dfo.  How  nianufactured  ?  Knowledge,  virtue, 
and  liap})ines3  are  the  life  of  the  soul  immortal  and 
most  j)recious.  and  so  to  be  guarded  and  illuminated 
by  an  intenuil  supernatural  voice,  whicli  is  tlie  guide 
of  the  good. 

Crito.  Conscience  is  called  a  divine  guide;  if  so, 
how  nuiny  ditllrent  divinitits  nmst  the  several  races 
present  as  sources  of  the  nudtitudinous  consci<>nces 
existing  throughout  the  world.  One  <j;od  certainlv 
never  could  liave  made  them  all. 

!*lunl().  Corkscieju-e  is  no  inhorfnt  or  fundamental 
guide,  but  a  basis  of  moral  pos;-ibiiities. 

Crito.  The  most  abominable  acts  liave  been  com- 
mitted by  men  of  weightiest  conscience. 

Socrates.  Good  Eveim^s  I  l»egyou,  tell  us  what  is 
conscience? 

ICrt'HK^.     Conscience  is  tlie  voice  of  God  in  man. 

Crito.  Then  why  have  not  all  men  like  consciences, 
a<5  God  surely  would  not  speak  one  conscience  to  one 
a.id  another  to  another. 


PLATO  REVISED. 


737 


h. 
[cos, 

one 


PJurdo.  I  do  not  uiulorstaiKl ;  I  thought  that  all 
the  world  agreed  on  the  fundu mental  principles  of 
riy:ht  and  morality,  the  variations  heing  local  and 
unimportant,  while  conscience  niust  be  part  of  man's 
nature,  since  it  is  found  evervwhere. 

<S\;rm/r.s'.  True,  vet  not  trut\  The  <j;orm  of  con- 
science  is  implanted,  but  in  the  development  its  clsar- 
acter  and  quality  d(>pend  upon  time  and  place,  tiie 
fruit  being  according  to  the  atmos[)liere  in  which  it 
unfolds.  Thu''isin  tau-dit  that  murder  was  no  crime; 
therefore  it  offended  n<>t  conscience  to  kill.  Tlu;  con- 
science of  tlie  Persian  W(>maiv  is  troui)led  if  her  face 
is  exposed,  while  the  Kuropcan  is  sliamed  if  her  breast 
is  seen  up()n  the  street.  I'liysical  perfection  was  the 
moral  ideal  of  the  early  (Jreeks,  and  not  female 
chastity,  so  highly  piized  elsewhere.  Tlie  soldier 
who  juoudly  murders  1.en  men  in  batth;  blushes  to 
kill  oiif  in  a  private  ))rawl.  As  a  nation,  or  corpo- 
ration, men  will  steal  with  intpunity  who  would  isot 
rob  in  dividuully.  The  mumblings  of  priest  or  magi.s- 
trate  in  tlie  form  of  a  marriage  ceremony  make 
saen  '!  snhsefpient  acts  whieh  were  oth<  rwi.sr;  abom- 
inable. J-iIo(.)d  revenge,  slavery,  polygamy  are  good 
to-dav  and  bad  to-morrow,  e'ven  und(>v  tlieolo'j;ic  teach- 
itiii's.  Ami  ?o  with  brute  conscience.  Teach  a  do<' 
to  cliasi^  tlii>  sheep,  and  he  is  proud  of  it;  whip  him 
for  so  doing  and  he  hangs  his  tail  when  caught  at  it, 
Between  the  ctMiscience  <)f  the  man  and  the  dog,  aj)art 
from  their  relative  inttilligenee  and  eduv-ation,  there  is 
little  to  choose.  Each  is  as  it  was  made.  ( Jreat  minds 
tiirow  of}'  all  teachings  and  restrictions;  great  mvn 
ha\e  little  conscience. 

Crifi).     But  surely  we  may  know  good  from  i\il? 

Sorntfni.  Yes.  But  how  shall  wc  know  it  i  Xot 
by  any  book,  revelation,  or  promul 'Ration.  ( )nly  shal- 
low biains  conlbinid  right  with  r<'ligion,  and  say  that 
faith  is  essential  to  conscience^  and  conscience  to 
moi-aiity.  lu'ligion  is  a  respi-ct  jtaid  to  unknowable 
furcea;    morality    is  the   jirevailing  aentuuent,   while 

KSSAYS  iND  MlaCKI.LANV      47 


^1 


r 


738 


PLATO  UEVLSED. 


g    IS 


conscience  is  lovaltv  to  tliat  sentiment.     Wron 
what  hurts  ww;  rii^ht  is  wliat  liurts  mo  not. 

('rito.     Tliis,  then,  is  th<*  morality  of  nature. 

Snn'dfrs.  Precisely.  I  know  of  no  other  teadier 
tlian  nature.  I  know  of  r.o  tliin*4,  idea,  force,  intelli- 
j»;rnc(\  or  ontitv  outsi(h>  of  nature.  All  t:fotls  arc 
nature,  and  all  men  and  heasts  ;  mortal  or  innuortal, 
essi'iu'cs,  s|)iriis,  intelli;jfences.  i)r  seas  or  solid  stones, 
all  ai'e  nature  ;  these,  and  all  heat  and  cold,  forces 
chemical  and  electrical,  and  huni^cr  and  sorrow  and 
ho))c,  tliese  arc  my  teachers  ;  alst)  love  and  hate,  and 
birds,  and  fishes,  and  all  that  is  an<l  is  not. 

('rlfo.  So  have  we  not  hcen  taught,  even  hv  vour- 
selt,  mv  master. 

Sncraf(s.  W(>  jiave  heen  tau;j;ht  (n'roneousl}-,  and 
must  unteach  ourselves.  Lies,  licentiousness,  hypoc- 
risy, cheatinjjjs,  and  overreachings  we  liave  heen 
taught  in  the  name  of  reli;jjion,  morality,  conscience, 
civili/ation,  under  whose  respective  l)annersthe  worhl 
has  oeen  a  'L::reat  human  slaughter-house,  a  field  of 
moral  pestilence  since  the  l)e;j;iimin«jj.  And  the  author 
of  this  state  of  things  we  are  sohcrly  asked  to  call 
j»"rf  ct,  just    wise,  merciful,  and  good. 

I*l>;\'<in.  Knowledge  of  good  and  evil  hy  no  means 
brinn's  right  action.  We  do  wrong  knowingly  and 
surter  for  it,  only  again  to  do  \\  long  and  again  sullei'. 
We  love  only  that  which  is  l>ad  :  \  irtue  is  too  lame 
for  the  times. 

l<<Hr<tt(>^.  If  I  tell  my  child  that  Santa  Clans  will 
not  hi'ing  him  a  present  if  he  is  a  had  hoy,  and  on 
Christmas  day  lie  gets  the  j)resent,  he  m:iy  tlnn  think 
nip  a  [XO{m\  father;  l)ut  latcjr,  when  his  mind  hc'-insto 
act  for  itself,  he  cannot  luive  a  very  liigh  opinion  of 
my  ju(lgin(^nt  «»r  vera«-ity.  If  I  tell  my  child  that 
(rod  will  punish  h-i  if  he  conunits  that  wicked  act, 
ami  lie  commits  uw  act.  not  once  or  twice,  hut 
twenty  times,  and  finds  that  (iod  (.Iocs  not  punish 
liini,  he  nuist,  if  he  reasoun  om  the  matter,  consider 
me,  his  father,  either  stupid  or  deceitful.      It  will  not 


pIllH 

nioni 
not  I 
the  .. 
that 

No. 

sligl, 
lion 

l»eii|. 


napii 


PLATO  KKA'ISKD. 


789 


IS 


•all 

u'aiis 

utU-r. 
lame 

s  will 
il  on 
tliink 
ins  to 
ion  of 
that 
il  act, 
hut 
luni.-h 
hsidor 

11  lU)t 


do;  Ik;  will  not  always  Ix;  satisfied  with  the  answer: 
"All,  wait  1  tliociid  is  not  yet;  ( Jod  is  loii'4-snfririii'j; ; 
lie  does  not  punisli  ij>  a  sj»iiit  ot"  rexcni^e;  lie  does 
not  always  in(^to  out  justice  in  this  worhh,"  hrit  I'atlier, 
when  lie  rea(;li(;s  niardiood,  lu;  will  tufn  to  nie  aii<l 
ask,  "  I  low  do  y(»u  know  i  How  came  you  to  know 
so  much  ahout  (jJod,  his  chaiaef.er,  and  aftiihutes.  his 
acts  and  intentions'?  Did  vou  ever  see  him  :*  ilavi; 
vol!  any  satisfactory  knovded^e  of  him,  sucli  knowl- 
e<!'^e  or  c\idenc(^  as  wouhl  i»e  received  in  any  court  of 
jii,-tic(!  in  nv-ard  to  anv  of  the  ailiiirs  of  life  ?  iJesidi's, 
he  does  exercise  revenue.  '  \'en<M'anee  is  mini',  saith 
tin;  liord.'  Wliy  is  it  his- — whv  will  he  ke<[t  tlie 
whole  of  it,  and  liive  nian  none?  'I  am  a  jealous 
(j}o(l.'  ()f  what  is  hojealt>us,  if  he  is  supreme  ?  *'  He 
mi'^ht  add  that  all  theories  and  examples  of  thco- 
lo'^ieal  punishmenfs  aic  i(  taliative  and  revenj^efnl  — 
()l)(>\'  me  and  1  will  \Ai'^:^  yoii  ;  disohev  me  and  I  w  ill 
curse  you;  serve  me  und  you  shall  ha\e  heasen; 
stuve  me  not  and  hell  sli.dl  havi;  yen.  Aj^iiin, 
if  he  does  not  mete  out  justice  here,  he  is, 
in  this  respect,  worsi;  than  tin;  men  who  madi'  him. 
An  omnipotent  and  heneficent  hein;^'  could  not, 
first  of  all,  make  so  imperfect  a  nieehainsm  as  this 
World  and  its  inhahitants  ;  and,  secondly,  could  not 
[lermit  an  act  of  injusliee  in  any  iA'  his  cicatni'es  :  or 
if  he  did,  for  the  henelitof  their  free  will  and  di^ci- 
jtline,  as  his  ministers  would  say,  he  could  not  I'est  fora 
moment  until  ihe  wroii-^'  was  made  liLilit.  lie  could 
not  permit  an  innocent  person  lo  atone  for  the  sins  of 
th(»  ;4nilty.  Suppose  one  of  our  judges  should  do 
that.''  Does  (jiod  reward  me  foi'  ptayin;j;  to  him? 
No.  For  ton  thousand  pi'ayers  I  ne\-er  receive  th(> 
slightest  aclvnowle<li4ine!it  ;  from  tt  11  thousand  Uiil- 
lion  prayers  we  know  of  n(»t  one  an^wt  r  of  any  kind 
hein^'  erantiMJ.  W'e  have  no  knowledge  of  almighty 
power  evcM'  havinii;  in  a  single  instance;  deviateil  from 
the  usual  course,  such  as  wo  call  the  fixecl  laws  of 
nai'iie,  because  observation  has  taught  us  that  tluiy 


740 


TLATO  RKVISED. 


do  not  rlianufo.  Omnipotonoo  ran  rlo  murli,  hut  it 
cannot  tlo  all  tliat  the  votaries  of  roligion  (leinand 
of  it ;  it  cannot  answer  two  opposing  prayers  at  tlio 
panu!  time  and  place,  as  whore  twenty  persons  pray, 
some  for  rain,  and  others  for  no  rain  ;  one  for  victory 
for  tlu!  armies  of  the  slave-holders,  and  one  Un'  victory 
for  tlu!  armies  of  the  aholitionists  - onjiiipotence  can- 
not achieve  a  contradiction  ;  and  this  is  what  religion- 
ists ar(!  constantly  making  (rod  do,  calling  him  kind, 
an<l  vet  showing  him  to  1)0  mer"il«  ss,  more  so  than 
any  man  he  ever  made  ;  calling  him  just,  and  yet 
showinti  him  to  he  unjust:  and  finallv  assertinu;  that 
if  h(!  could  have  it  so  the  devil  would  he  extinguislml 
altogether,  which  acknowledges  that  he  is  not 
omnipotent,  else  he  would  extinguish  liim.  These 
are  oidv  a  few  examples  out  of  hundreds  that  miulit 
ho  hrought  forward.  No;  I  would  tell  my  hoy,  do 
right  hecause  right-doing  hrings  its  own  reward. 
Tills  is  why  it  is  rijiht,  hecause^  it  hriuL's  its  own  rewnrd. 
Wrong-doing  l)rings  its  own  punislmKnt  ;  this  is 
why  we  may  know  it  is  wrong,  hecause  it  luings 
pain  and  not  pleasure.  Any  ac-t  hringing  unfjuali- 
Hed  pleasure  ,o  all  and  jtain  upon  none,  «annot  he 
wroiiir,  no  !  atter  what  any  person  or  hodk  may 
say.  Do  right  for  tin;  love  of  it  and  hecause  it  makes 
you  better,  haj)pier,  nobler.  Avoid  wrong-doing,  not 
from  fear  of  a  thunderbolt  hurled  by  an  otl'ended 
deity  from  behind  the  clouds,  for  no  such  visitation 
will  come  upon  you;  but  avoid  doing  wrong  because 
it  is  degrading  and  will  bring  upon  you  pain.  I'ut  not 
your  hand  in  the  fire,  for  it  will  be  burned  ;  diink  not 
that  fiery  intoxicant,  for  it  dries  up  your  life's  blood  ; 
smoke  not,  to  the  destruction  of  your  nerves  :  gamble 
not,  to  the  dissipation  of  your  fortune ;  steal  not, 
thereby  giving  others  the  right  to  steal  from  you; 
kill  not,  if  you  do  not  want  to  be  killed  ;  and  so  on. 
A  morality  thus  based  upon  the  simple  truths  of 
nature  will  last  a  man  through  life,  and  give  him  the 
most  steadfast  assurance  in  time  of  death;  it   will 


ri.ATO  UEVISED. 


741 


never  be  dcroptivc;  it  will  ntsvcr  prove  untrue,  and 
the  ijerson  basing  liis  conduct  ui»on  it  will  wtand 
always  the  saujc.  lie  will  not  liavc  to  eradicate 
any  t'ldso  teachings  and  construct  a  new  l>asis  of  moral- 
ity for  himself,  or  go  without  any  ;  his  [irincijdis  will 
be  founded  upon  a  rock.  And  h«;  who  thus  stands 
has  nothing  in  the  widi*  universe  to  fear,  while  ho 
who  is  governed  all  his  life  by  superstition,  by  the 
fancied  arbitrary  mandates  (»f  a  fancied  deity,  must 
neiMJs  crawl  in  craven  cowardice  all  throuiih  this 
woild  and  mto  the  next. 

Crifo.     But  if  morality  is  neither  religion  nor  civil- 
ization, it  certainlv  nmst  be  in  accoril  with  Ixith. 


Socraki 


Not 


necessarilv 


Tl 


lel'u    are 


plenty 


o 


f 


immoral  ri'ligioiis  and  innnoral  civilizations,  though 
such  religions  and  civili/>ati(ins  would  in>t  call  tJn  ir 
Hiorality  immoral.  Morality,  like  r(Ti;.;i(>n,  is  largely 
a  conventional  aitiele,  being  but  the  idi'al  of  theetim- 
munity,  whatever  that  may  lutpinn  to  be.  I'lio 
(ireek  mother  woidd  never  call  her  ))atriotic  son 
immoral,  thoU'^h  he  drank  wine  by  the  "'allon  an*l 
ke|)t  half  a  <lozen  mistresses.  The  popular  preacher 
is  not  immoral  if  he  tells  no  lies  exce[tt  in  the  pulpit. 
The  monopolist  may  stral  liis  millions,  deal  whole.suK; 
in  bribery  and  c(U'ru[)tion,  and  not  be  <';dle(l  immoiMl, 
provided  he  does  it  within  limits  (jf  the  law,  or  is  not 
caught  at  it. 

J  liffo.     The  nio'.'.i!  sentiment,  right  or  wrong,  is  the 
ci-ntral  force  of  every  society.      Intrinsic  right  is  I 


t  ss 


j)owerful  under  such  conditions  than  conventional 
right  or  public  moral  sense.  This  senst',  afti-r  all, 
though  it  ma}'  be  the  ]»risonwall  of  reason,  is  the 
onlv  hone  of  progress.    It  gi\es  a-^nre'-ati-il  humanitv 


V 


■rsonalitv,   and   before  the   soul   of  man    it   la\s  an 


em|iii'e.  Moral  philosophy  treats  only  of  jxifeet  rec- 
titude and  right  conduct,  ignoring  evil,  as  physiology 
treats  of  the  functions  of  organs  and  knows  n(»tliing 
of  disease. 

Socrates.     Ethics  is  the  science  of  human  duty.  By 


742 


PLATO  URVISKD. 


tlio  tonn  liuinaii  duty  moral  ol)lil,^'1tioI)  is  Iinpllod.  No 
one  arrives  at  the  aj^e  of  maturity,  naciu^s  tlie  juriod 
of  youtli,  or  is  even  buiii  into  (lie  \v<»rld  without  huv- 
iiil^  aceumidated  a  load  of  iiKh'lttcdiicss,  to  tlischiirij;*! 
wliieh  a  lifr-tiiiie  is  toi*  sliort.  Th(!  infant  ow(.h 
for  its  existence,  for  the;  jireparation  and  paniL^s  of 
its  biitli.  The  youth  owes  for  nourishment  and 
earc  durinii  eliildhood.  Tht;  vounij  citizen  owes  for 
proti'ction  and  culture,  and  the  old  man  for  such 
existing;  conditions  as  enahled  him  to  attain  comfort- 
ahie  and  honorahle  old  ajjje.  In  the  annals  of  the  race 
jUfood  has  ever  manifcsti'd  a  strcnt^th  superior  to  that 
of  evil  ;  henco  our  sympathy  and  alleL^iance  nmst  bo 
on  the  side  of  «iood.  At  all  events  wc;  iiuist  sido  with 
the  j^ootl  as  lung  as  good  preponderates.  Ifhcfiire 
the  end  evil  rises  superior  to  good,  thi'U  all  moral 
men  nuist  worshij)  evil,  which  thereby  becomes  the 
itic.il  good,  and  can  no  longer  be  called  innnoi'ality. 

,  l/>o//of/f>/*//.s.  T!m>  supi)ression  of  malignant  feeling 
is  itself  a  reward,  says  Prahlada, 

/V/,7v/o.     Pray  tell  me,  P^vcnus,  is  the  soul  immortal  ? 

Kiriiii>^.      ()f  c(jurs(>  it  is  immortal. 

Pliinlo.     How  do  you  know  ;" 

Krniiiii.  ^\v\\  of  all  ages  and  nations  have  held  to 
belief  in  the  innnortalitv  of  the  soul  ;  iiothinLl  in 
nature  dies,  therefore  the  soul  cannot  die  ;  my  iimer 
consciousness  tells  me  that  I  am  not  like  the  brute 
which  perishes. 

riurdi).  The  seci'ct  mystcric^s  of  ])ionysius  held 
that  the  soul  is  imjxrishalile;  were  the  rest  of  the 
mysteiies  true  ?  Have  not  the  early  nations  held  to 
thousands  of  untrue  beliefs? 

KroiU!^.      (Vrtainly. 

Pli.'i'do.  Then  why  attempt  to  prove  anything  true 
by  such  evi<lence  ;' 

ErniK.'i.     It  is  a  standanl  argument. 

Pliiido.  Nothing  in  nature  dies,  you  say;  but 
there  are  infinite  changes,  as  great  as  wt)uld  be  the 


PLATO  UKVISKD. 


74S 


to 

ill 

iicr 

iitc 


ruo 


lUt 

Lho 


instniit  transfornmtion  of  liff,  soul,  iiitollt'ct.  into  cfiin 
iiiid  vjijtoi',  or  foiisi'^niiiiLj  tli»iii  to  tlic  oiij^iaul  nstr- 
voir.  or  source*  of  all  iiitrlli-'ciicc 


A'/ 


f  II  IIS. 


TIk'Ii  tlio  soul  is  not  iuiiiiortal. 


J'liiiilo.     I  (litl  not  say  so. 

Juriiii;',.  flatter  is  in«lt'stru('tii)lo ;  is  \u\iu\  less 
woi'tliy  of  |tri'S('rvation  tlian  matter  f  Wliat  iK-conics 
of  man's  Icainimjf,  of  his  skill,  wlu-n  tlu'  l>o«ly  «lii's  ? 
Nt'itlicr  force  n(»r  matter  are  cioiited  or  lost.  Xotli- 
in;jj  tliat  comes  within  the  sco|ti!  of  our  knowltdyc  is 
either  cnated  or  lost.  Is  the  cultui'od  intellect  a 
creation,  or  an  accumulation  of  e.\[)eriences,  and  are 
thev  all  annihilated   hv  deaths 

lliinli).  It  Would  seem,  if  tliere  is  any  inunor- 
talitv  left,  if  there  is  somewhere,  thnni'^hout  the 
realms  of  space,  for  us  a  glorified  heaven,  to  the  enjoy- 
ment of  which  a  keeiur  ed^'e  isf^iven  hy  the  existence 
of  a  dreadful  hell  for  our  hapless  m'i^hhor,  some 
an_u;els  would  be  siiit  to  t'.ll  us  of  it.  (iod,  if  ho 
chose,  could  at  once  end  all  sin  and  misery;  lie  could 
obliterate  unluTief,  take  fiom  the  world  its  injustice 
and  fi'om  death  its  stinij;,  showiuL^  man  what  he  is  and 
wliat  his  future  will  he.  If  there  l)e  a  (iod,  and  a 
future  state,  wiiy  does  he  not  do  tliis  :*  Surely  the 
World  needs  (Jlod's  jiresence  as  greatly  as  it  ever  did  ; 
and  if  men  had  here  the  same  evidence  u[ion  which 
to  base  opinion  that  is  reipiiied  of  tlieni  in  the;  ordi- 
nary walks  of  lift',  millions  of  beings  mi<;ht  be  saved 
who  now  are  lost.  Men  have  wiitten  much,  and 
achieved  much  fame  in  writinn-  on  the  imniortalitv  of 
the  j^ods.  Of  course  the  if(K\t^  were  all  immortal 
then,  but  wlure  are  the}-  now  {  The  Japanese  still 
have  their  banil>oo,  symbol  of  imniortalitv,  which 
they  ])lant  beside  the  tombs  of  the  illustrious  dead, 
but  what  have  theCjIreoks? 

Crito.     What  is  tlie  soul  ? 

Pliirdn.     The  spiritual  part  of  man. 

Criio.  In  what  sense  s[)iritual  ?  Is  intellect  s})ir- 
itual  ? 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


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IIM 

m 

MO 


IIM 
1.8 


1.25      1.4 

1.6 

^ 

6"     - 

► 

V] 


<^ 


/2 


^^ 


%  \y 


A^ 


/. 


/^ 


^ 


'^ 


Photographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


m-' 


4, 


V 


^ 


€>* 


\\ 


c^ 


23  WEST  MAII^  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  V"??0 

(716)  873-4503 


d. 


4. 


744 


PLATO  REVISED. 


Phsedo.     It  is  certainl}'^  not  material 

Crito.  Have  brutes  souls?  How  do  soul  charac- 
teristics differ  in  men  and  brutes? 

Phiedo.  Onl}'^  in  degree,  so  far  as  we  can  perceive. 
We  cannot  say  that  brutes  have  not  souls,  nor  any 
after-life  ;  we  do  not  know. 

Crito.  If  the  soul  has  existence  apart  from  the 
body,  it  may  have  had  being  before  the  makhig  of  the 
body  ;  but  we  trouble  ourselves  less  about  what  we 
were  than  what  we  will  be. 

Phwdo.  If  the  soul  be  not  immortal,  how  many 
good  men  are  doomed  to  disappointment! 

Crito.  Not  so ;  for  if  the  soul  wake  not  in  eternity, 
how  shall  it  ever  know  it? 

Plisedo.  Even  though  it  be  not  true,  they  say,  it  is 
better  to  believe  it  if  it  brings  comfort. 

Crito.  But  it  does  not  always  bring  comfort.  Can 
it  be  comfort  to  the  mother  at  the  grave  of  an  erring 
son  to  feel  that  he  must  be  forever  in  torment  while 
she  enjoys  heaven  ?  The  doctrine  of  a  future  state  of 
rewards  and  punishments  necessitates  the  eternal 
separation  of  husband  and  wife,  parents  and  children. 

SocraiiS.  In  your  Republic,  Plato,  you  defend  the 
doctrine  of  immortality  of  the  soul;  do  you  still  hold 
to  tliat  opinion? 

Plato.     Thus  far  I  find  myself  immortal. 

Socrates.  How  about  the  gods  and  their  immor- 
tality ? 

Plato.     I  have  met  no  gods  as  yet. 

Socrates.  You  have  often  been  quoted  as  a  pagan 
of  profound  wisdom  who  believed  in  the  immortality 
of  the  soul. 

Plato. 
hold. 

Socrates.  You  have  taught  also  that  there  is 
mind  in  the  stars,  in  which  teaching  you  were 
perhaps  nearer  the  truth  than  you  supposed. 

Plato.  There  are  in  all  things  mind  and  soul, 
and  these  ever  were  and  always  will  be. 


No  one  can  be  religious  who  does  not  so 


PLATO  REVISED. 


746 


Socrates.  You  believed  also  in  sorcery,  witchcraft, 
transciigration  of  the  soul,  and  a  thousand  absurd- 
ities about  God  and  creation. 

Plato.  There  is  a  future  ;  we  know  not  what  it  is  ; 
whatever  it  is  it  were  well  to  be  prepared  for  it. 

Evenus.  If  there  is  no  innnortality  there  is  no 
God,  no  justice,  no  truth,  no  good.  That  the  soul  is 
immortal  we  know  by  an  instinct  deeply  rooted  in 
all  humanity. 

Cr'do.  Do  men  like  brutes  depend  upon  instinct  for 
guidance  ? 

Eveims.  Well,  intuition,  if  you  like  the  word  bet- 
ter. 

Cr'do.     Millions  of  intuitions  have  come  to  naught. 

Evenus.     If  God  lives  the  soul  lives  alway. 

Crito.      I  agree  with  you. 

EvcvHS.  In  the  religion  of  the  ancient  Egyptians 
arc  grand  conceptions  concerning  the  immortality  of 
the  soul. 

Crito.  Do  you  believe  in  the  immortality  of  the 
Egyptian  soul  ? 

Evenus.     I  do. 

Crito.     Do    you  believe  in  the  Egyptian  heaven  ? 

Evenus.     I  cannot. 

Crito.  Then,  if  the  Egyptian  soul  is  immortal, 
what  will  it  do  without  the  Egyptian  heaven  ? 

Socrates.  A  life  bcj'ond  the  grave  may  be  relied 
upon  only  in  so  far  as  it  is  demonstrable  by  the  senses; 
yet  there  may  be  immortality  for  man  for  all  that. 

Crito.  Now  toll  me,  Apollodorus,  can  j'ou  dis- 
course on  miracles  ? 

Apollodorus.  Yes  ;  and  I  will  begin  my  discourse 
by  saying  that  there  are  no  miracles. 

( Wito.     What  is  a  miracle  ? 

Apollodorus.  A  performance  outside  the  pale  of 
nature. 

Crito.  How  can  you  prove  that  there  never  have 
been  miracles  ? 


746 


PLATO  REVISED. 


ApoUodorns.  I  am  not  so  called  upon  |  it  is  for 
those  who  believe  in  them  to  prove  their  existence,  as 
is  the  case  in  regard  to  the  whole  range  of  super- 
natural phenomena. 

Crito.     And  as  to  prayer? 

ApoUodorns.  Prayer  is  the  begging  of  omnipotence 
to  do  the  impossible — a  liarn)Icss  diversion,  so  long  as 
those  who  pray  expect  no  results,  or  are  satisfied  with 
the  reflex  etfect. 

Crito.  Do  not  those  who  pray  usually  expect  an 
answer  ? 

Apollodoras.  They  think  they  do,  and  often  feel 
that  they  have  it  ;  but  were  a  prompt  and  palpable 
response  to  come  to  one  of  their  petitions,  no  one 
would  be  more  surprised  than  the  petitioner. 

Crito.  Why  do  the  gods  wish  to  be  importuned  by 
their  votaries  ? 

ApoUodonis.  They  do  not.  Why  should  men  make 
their  gods  in  some  respects  so  much  worse  tlian 
themselves  ?  A  kind  and  benevolent  human  father 
does  not  enjoy  seeing  his  children  all  their  lives  grov- 
elling; in  the  dust  before  him  :  beseechinix  him  to 
remember  their  wants  and  relieve  their  miseries  ; 
importuning  him  for  favors  whicli  it  costs  him  noth- 
ing to  grant,  and  which  he  withholds  seemingly  to 
tantali2e  them,  and  cause  them  to  beg  the  more  and 
louder.  The  attitude  is  not  a  noble  one  for  either 
man  or  god  to  pose  in.  How,  then,  shall  we  say  of 
those  who  make  their  god  in  theory  a  high  and  holy 
one — creator,  preserver,  dominator,  an  onmipotent 
and  unchangeable  being,  absolutely  just,  full  of  com- 
passion and  tender  mere}' — and  yet  in  their  interpre- 
tation of  him,  by  their  words  and  acts,  they  make  him 
out  now  a  contemptible  thing,  and  now  a  demon  1 

Crito.     May  not  good  gods  permit  prayer  ? 

ApoUodorns.  Yes ;  it  pacifies  some  persons  and 
teaches  obedience.  But  look  back  and  see  what  use 
men  and  gods  make  of  prayer,  and  then  say  if  it  be 
decent,     Formerly  men   prayed   an  enemy  to  death, 


PLATO  REVISED 


747 


and 

use 

be 

[ath, 


prayed  devils  out  of  the  dying,  prayed  the  departed 
soul  into  heaven,  prayed  fish  to  ascend  the  stream, 
the  corn  to  grow,  the  sun  to  shine  ;  robbers  and  nmr- 
derers  prayed  for  fat  victims,  while  the  fat  victims 
j)rayed  to  be  delivered  from  robbers  and  nnirdorers. 
And  the  same  incongruities  and  absurdities  continue, 
thouju-h  in  a  modified  form.  Nations  pray  for  victory 
over  their  enemies;  though  brother  fight  against 
brother,  both  beseech  the  same  God  for  strength  to 
kill  the  other.  There  are  places  where  rain  is  prayed 
for  ;  also  deliverence  from  earthquake  famine  and 
pestilence,  success  at  the  polls,  blessings  on  infamous 
persons  and  principles.  God  is  constantly  reminded 
that  there  are  the  poor,  the  sick,  the  blind,  the 
infinn,  whom  he  is  sadly  neglecting  ;  there  are  the 
dying  who  want  a  reserved  seat  in  heaven,  S(jmething 
better  than  is  given  to  their  neighbors  In  a  word,  if 
the  character  of  God  is  as  represented  by  his  votaries, 
tlieir  petitions  are  a  disgrace  to  their  intelligence  and 
an  insult  to  him. 

Crito.  But  surely  the  creator  can  break  his  own 
laws  if  he  chooses  ? 

Apnllodoriis.  We  have  no  evidence  that  ever  a  sin- 
gle law  of  nature  was  suspended  or  diverted  from  its 
ordinary  course. 

Crlto.  Do  not  all  the  national  and  sacred  books  of 
all  nations  and  ages  testify  to  the  existence  of  mira- 
cles ? 

ApoUodoriis.  Yes,  and  if  you  call  that  proof,  you 
prove  too  much  ;  for  every  one  of  them  condemns  all 
the  others  as  false.  Now,  where  there  arc  a  thou- 
sand and  one  religions,  every  one  railing  against  the 
])retcnded  miracles  of  tlie  other  as  prei)osterous, 
surely  the  chance  for  one  of  them  to  be  true  Is 
small.  Besides,  how  reconcile  the  doctrine  of 
special  providences  and  answer  to  prayer  with  the 
innnutability  and  unchangeableness  of  the  creator? 

Onto.     Well,  how  about  the  millions  of  petitioners 


748 


PLATO  REVISED. 


who  know  from  internal  evidence  that  their  prayers 
are  answered  ? 

Apollodorm.  1  would  rather  see  one  external 
evidence,  than  liear  of  a  million  of  the  other  descrip- 
tion. The  heart-broken  mother,  beij<2:in<>:  the  life  of 
her  fever-stricken  child,  is  greatly  comforted  though 
the  child  dies.  The  false  religionist  enjoys  as  nmch 
internal  evidence  as  the  true  religionist.  In  a  wud 
tlic  internal  evidence  is  the  same,  whether  the  prayer 
is  answered  or  not,  and  so,  as  evidence,  goes  for  noth- 
ing. The  doctrine  of  special  providences  and  prayer 
imply  imperfection  in  the  creation  and  regulation  of 
the  universe.  If  all  were  rightly  made  and  rightly 
ruled,  any  deviation  from  existing  or  predetermined 
courses  would  be  wrong.  Therefore,  to  pray  a  just 
and  holv  God  to  do  what  otherwise  he  would  not  do, 
is  to  ask  him  to  do  wrong,  which,  if  he  does  not, 
prayer  is  oi  no  avail. 

Cr'do.  Then  prayer  springs  from  fear  and  desire, 
and  its  reflex  influence  is  the  chief  one. 

Apolhdorus.  Say  rather  the  only  one.  Imagine  a 
being  sitting  in  heavenly  state,  regarding  the  world 
of  worms  which  he  has  made.  One  worm  asks  for 
grace,  mercy,  and  peace;  another  for  food  and 
raiment;  a  third  asks  pardon  for  its  measure  of  sins 
only  that  it  may  be  as  quickly  filled  again.  Imagine 
this  being  healing  those  whom  he  had  made  sick, 
binding  up  the  hearts  he  had  broken,  and  in  a  thou- 
sand other  ways  righting  the  wrongs  that  he  had 
done.  Sorry  contemplation,  indeed,  for  a  maker  of 
mortals  who  could  have  done  better  but  would  not  t 

Cr'do.  How  then  would  you  account  for  the  pres- 
ence of  miracles  in  all  the  ancient  writings? 

Apollodonis.  Most  religions  were  made  long  ago, 
when  the  world  was  young,  ignorant,  imaginative, 
ready  to  believe  anything,  and  therefore  exceedingly 
superstitious.  In  oriental  countries  particularly,  signs 
and  wonders  were  everywhere.  Any  person  who 
from  any  cause  became  conspicuous  was  sooner  or 


PLATO  REVISED. 


749 


later  endowed  with  supernatural  powers,  and  though 
he  might  never  have  pretended  to  perform  a  miracle, 
he  was  sure  to  be  accredited  with  many. 

Plato.  What  shall  we  say,  Socrates;  is  life  worth 
the  living  ? 

Socrates.  Under  some  circumstances,  and  by  cer- 
tain persons,  it  may  be,  but  in  the  main  it  is  not. 
The  world's  religion,  philosophy,  and  poetry  are  as  a 
rule  pessimistic. 

Plato.  You  speak  truly.  Human  existence  is  too 
often  a  vast  despair,  whether  viewed  as  an  evolution, 
or  from  a  theological  point  of  view.  Under  the  first 
supposition  we  are  one  with  the  elements,  coming  from 
them  and  returning  to  them  after  a  life  of  butfiting. 
Under  the  second,  the  race  is  no  sooner  made  than  it 
falls  from  a  state  of  angelic  purity,  becomes  totally 
depraved,  and  is  driven  forth  by  a  hated  master  to 
endless  torment,  a  few  favorites  excepted. 

Socrates.  Infinitely  higher  than  that  of  the  religion- 
ist is  the  realistic  conception  of  man's  nature  and 
destiny.  The  gods  of  man's  creation  fade  before  ever 
increasing  intelligence  and  morality.  The  conscious- 
ness of  divine  self  gains  strength,  until  to  the  infinite 
development  to  which  we  were  created  we  look  for 
the  only  living  and  true  God. 

A'poUndorus.  Perhaps  we  take  life  too  seriously, 
which  after  all  may  be  a  huge  joke,  man  the  sportive 
play  of  tlie  elements,  and  mind  a  force  of  matter  tinc- 
tured with  intelligence. 

Plato.  When  nature  can  supply  a  better  man  it  is 
time  for  each  one  to  die,  and  give  place  to  him  ;  when 
man  becomes  perfect  he  may  rightly  and  reasonably 
live  on  forever. 

Crito.  By  the  mute  attraction  and  repulsion  in 
inorganic  forces  worlds  out  of  chaos  grow  ;  as  by 
articulate  love  and  hate  beasts  have  become  men,  and 
men  gods. 

Socrates.  Emerging  from  tlie  darkness  of  brute 
instinct  to  the  illumination  of  thought ;  rising  out  of 


750 


PLATO  REVISED. 


inferior  1*1  fc-forms,  and  advancing  from  consciousness 
to  self -consciousness  under  the  inspiration  of  ever- 
brightening  sky  and  sea,  of  landscape,  birds,  and 
flowers,  all  through  life's  ages  man  has  been  left  to 
work  out  his  destiny  in  darkness  and  in  liglit  under 
the  unfolding  duality  of  mind  and  matter,  beauty  that 
catches  the  eye  being  ever  before  utihtv,  ornament 
before  dress,  poetry  before  ]^-roso,  and  brilhant  tlieol- 
ogics  bofn-e  liard  and  practical  S'ience. 

Apollodorm.  Happy  the  Aral)S,  who  refuse  to 
know  anything  of  what  happened  before  Mohammed 
came  1  What  an  infinitude  of  trouble  nien  miglit  save 
themselves  by  refusing  to  know  anything  of  what 
shall  happen  after  death ! 

Socrates.  While  at  Athens,  Plato,  you  had  much 
tliouirlit  of  lesjfislation  and  the  alfairs  of  state.  In 
your  llepublic  your  main  distinction  as  to  forms  was 
whether  the  government  vested  in  the  liands  of  one 
or  many — that  is  to  say  monarchy  or  oligarchy  on  the 
one  hand  and  democracy  or  republicanism  on  the  other. 

Plato.     That  is  true. 

So'',ratcs.  Of  all  the  governments  mankind  has  had, 
which  do  you  regard  as  the  best  form  ? 

Plato.  There  is  no  one  form  greatly  better  tlian 
another ;  there  is  not,  and  never  has  been,  any  gov- 
ernment at  all  approaching  perfection. 

Socrates.  How  ?  Are  not  the  more  liberal  ways 
which  mark  the  emergence  of  intellect  from  the  clouds 
of  sava<>ism  better  than  the  wearing  of  the  former 
fetters  ?  Is  not  monarchy  better  than  despotism,  and 
democracy  better  than  monarchy  ? 

Plato.      It  has  not  been  so  proved. 

Socrates.  Is  liberty  nothing  ?  The  limitations  cf 
authority,  the  restriction  of  the  so-called  divine  right, 
constitutional  safeguards  in  place  of  the  absolute  and 
individual  will — are  these  nothing? 

Plato  They  are  much,  all  fitting  in  their  way; 
and  so  I  suppose  are  demagogy  and  mobocracy,  else 
they  had  never  been. 


PLATO  REVISED. 


751 


Socrates.  Tell  me,  I  pray  you,  Plato,  what  you  moan. 

Plato.  This ;  you  may  as  well  ask  whicli  of  all  the 
styles  of  garments  naked  humanity  has  ever  emplyyecl 
am  tlie  best.  The  fashion  of  government,  like  the 
cut  of  coats,  depends  upon  the  idiosyncrasy  of  the 
wearers.  That  government  or  garment  is  best  which 
best  meets  present  needs.  The  government  is  made 
to  fit  the  condition,  and  not  tlie  condition  to  fit  the 
government.  I  have  said  before,  tliat  governments 
vary  as  the  characters  of  men  vary  ;  states  are  maile 
not  of  oak  and  rock,  but  of  the  human  natures  wliicli 
are  in  them,  Tlie  states  are  as  the  men  ;  they  do  but 
grow  out  of  human  characters. 

Socrates.  Before  we  can  have  any  good  government 
we  must  have  those  for  rulers  who  can  master  the 
passions  that  master  men.  But  even  the  gods  them- 
selves have  not  been  able  to  do  this,  not  a  single  deity 
in  all  the  thcoLjonies  and  theoloufies  of  the  world  beiniif 
able  to  control  himself  in  this  regard  as  he  attempts  to 
control  the  men  who  made  him. 

Plato.     Socrates,  you  s[)eak  the  truth. 

Socrates.  You  treat  of  justice  in  your  Laws  as  the 
interest  of  the  stronger. 

Plato.  Yes.  The  governing  power  makes  tlie 
laws  ;  God  makes  the  governing  power  ;  justice  must 
uphold  God  and  the  laws,  right  or  wrong. 

Socrates.  Are  not  God  and  the  laws  just  ;  do  they 
not  render  to  every  man  his  due? 

Plato.  Answer  that  question  for  yourself,  O 
Socrates. 

Socrates.  In  your  opinion,  Plato,  it  is  folly  to 
imai2;ine  that  war  will  ever  cease,  that  it  is  a  natural 
condition  between  states. 

Plato.  I  see  no  indication  of  a  change  fro::i  what 
always  has  been  the  case  in  this  regard. 

Socrates.  And  the  affairs  of  a  state  should  be  so 
ordered  as  to  conquer  all  other  states  in  war  ? 

Plato.  All  men  are  the  enemies  of  all  other  men, 
both  in  public  and  private. 


702 


PLATO  REVISED. 


Socratcff.     And  the  life  of  man  should  be  ordered 
with  a  view  to  continue  internal  and  external  strife  ? 
Plato.     It  is  the  only  way. 
Socrates.     Is  war  a  good  or  an  evil  ? 
Plato.     A  necessarv  evil. 

Socrates.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  necessary  evil ; 
if  the  evil  is  necessary  its  practise  is  a  good.  War  is 
either  a  good  or  an  evil. 

Plato.  One  might  say  on  the  side  of  right  and  lib- 
erty, if  the  winning  side,  it  is  a  lamentable  good  ;  on 
the  other  side  it  is  assuredly  an  evil. 

Socrates.  Is  victory  oftener  on  the  side  of  right  or 
wrong  ? 

Plato.     Of  wrong. 
Socrates.     Why  ? 

Plato.  Because  numbers  carrying  preponderance 
of  strength  breed  arrogance,  and  render  the  majority 
indifferent  to  the  rights  of  the  minority. 

Socrates.  Well,  Plato,  take  it  as  a  whole,  is  it  a 
good  or  an  evil  that  men  sliould  have  no  more  sane 
or  humane  ultimate  appeal  in  the  adjustment  of  differ- 
ences than  the  bloody  arbitrament  of  battle,  after  the 
manner  of  brute  beasts  ? 
Plato.     An  evil,  decidedly. 

Socrates.    And  yet  you  would  have  the  affairs  of  the 
state  always  so  ordered  as  best  to  perpetuate  this  evil  ? 
Plato.     It  must  be  so. 

Socrates.  Were  it  not  better  to  have  the  laws  and 
customs  such  that  reason  rather  than  brute  force 
should  regulate? 

Plato.  If  possible,  yes.  But  no  wise  legislator 
orders  peace  for  the  sake  of  war,  and  not  war  for  the 
sake  of  peace. 

Socrates.  Yet,  as  war  is  brutal,  not  reasonable,  and 
the  winner  more  apt  to  be  wrong  than  right,  were  it 
not  betterto  adopt  measures  to  abolish  war  than  try 
to  maintain  the  ground  that  the  world  cannot  do 
without  it  ? 

Plato.     Certainly. 


I'LATO  REVISEb. 


753 


l^ocrates.     One  word  more,  Plato 

Plato.     Wliat  is  it,  Socrates  ? 

^Soaraies.  Consider  the  nebular  theory  .)f  tlie  solar 
system  correct,  eternal  change  the  changeless  law 
thereof,  evolution  implying  dissolution,  or,  as  Kant 
hatli  It,  chaos  ever  passing  into  cosmos,  and  cosmos 
leturnnig  to  chaos  again;  where,  then,  are  men  and 
gods,  and  all  those  bright  intelligences,  creation,  of 
tlie  conscious  atoms? 

Plato.     The  philosophy  of  being  is  more  worthy  of 
our  consideration  than  methods  of  becomini 

Essays  and  Miscellany   a 


'S- 


Ab 

Acs 
o 
Acii 
(i 
Ac(i 
Afr 
Agr 
Alai 
AImi 


Alai 

bi 

Alca 

Al.li 

Alu<! 

Alex 

Allis 

Alpt 

Alva 

Alva 

Alva 

Alva 

Ainb 

'Am: 

fro 

Aniei 

18t 

Anco 

Ande 

Andr< 

Ange] 

•Ann 

'Anoi 

the, 

Anton 

Apian 

Areva 

Arrani 

Arron( 

Athen 

Austri 

Autho 

char 


INDEX. 


Abbott,  works  of,  93. 

Acadeinia  Naciunal,  Mex.,  founding 

of,  5:i8. 
Academy  of  Natural  Sciencea,  Cal., 

dedcript.  of,  (il9. 
Acoata,  worka  of,  24,  661. 
Africans,  aaaimilation,  etc.,  of,  256. 
Agneae,  tnn'^  i>',  667. 
Aluman,  Ij.,  wurka  of,  55t>-l. 
Al'ircon,    £.    8.    dc,    works   of,    624, 

.•';i5-6. 

Alarcon  y  Mendoza,  works  of,  628-0; 

biog.,  529-30. 
Alcaraz,  worka  of,  572. 
AKlana,  K.,  mention  of,  683. 
Alegre,  M'orka  of,  508. 
Alexander  the  Great,  career  of,  82. 
Alliaon,  worka  of,  93. 
Alpuche,  works  of,  572. 
Alva,  F.  de,  worka  of,  600. 
Alvarado,  Gov.,  writings  of,  603. 
Alvarado,  P.,  'Relacion,' 4UI. 
Alvarez,  I.,  writings  of,  552. 
Ambition,  remarks  on,  175-6. 
'American  Law  Keview,'  quotation 

from,  301-2. 
Americana,   characteristics,   etc.,   of, 

189-204. 
Ancona,  worka  of,  652-3,  5G0. 
Anileraon,  Dr  W.  C,  ineution  of,  624. 
Andre,  '  Overcome,'  634. 
Angelo,  M.,  story  of,  142. 
'Annals  of  San  Francisco,'  615,  640. 
'Anonymous  Conqueror,'  writings  of 

the,  15-16. 
Antonio,  N.,  works  of,  512. 
Apianus,  works  of,  662. 
Arevalo,  S.  de,  mention  of,  470,  480. 
Arrangoiz,  worka  of,  5.52,  590. 
Arronez,  M.,  worka  of,  666,  590. 
Athena,  dicasts  of,  283. 
Austria,  I.,  play  a  of,  583. 
Authors,    as    critics,     126-8,    141-3; 

characleristics,    etc.,    of,    129-30, 


176-7;  perplexitiea,  136;  apprecia- 
tion of,  141. 

Autocracy,  decline  of,  81. 

Avarice,  prevalence  oi,  183. 

Avery,  VV.  S.,  writings,  etc.,  of,  698, 
600,  608. 

Aztecs,  records,  etc  ,    f,  4S9-i}J. 


B 


Baker,  Senator  E.  D.,  eloquence  of, 
026. 

Ball)iiena,  Bishop,  works  of,  520-1, 
5S5. 

Bandini,  writings  of,  603. 

Baqueiro,  'Eusayo,' 5U0. 

Karbacero,  translation  by,  572. 

Barcena,  M.,  works  of,  5i;8. 

Barcena,  R. ,  work.s  of,  57 1-2. 

Barcia,  works  of,  512. 

Barry  and  Patten,  'Men  and  Memoirs,' 
613. 

Barstow,  G.,  mention  of,  6-"6. 

Bartlett,  W.  C,  writings,  etc.,  of, 
598-600. 

Bates,  Mrs,  'Four  Years  on  the  Pa- 
cific Coa-it,' 610. 

Baturoni,  Z  ,  plays  of,  583. 

Baz,  '  Vida  de  Juare,'  556. 

Beaumont,  'Crouica  de  Michoacan,' 
506. 

Beckwith,  Rev.,  mention  of,  625. 

Benton,  J.  A.,  'The  Cal.lornia  Pil- 
grim,' 605. 

Benzoni,  G.,  works  of,  24,  463-4,  661. 

Beristain,  worka  of,  5.'{4. 

Bibliography,  Cent.  Amer.,  478-80; 
Mex.,  511-13,  5:«)-6,  589-90;  Cal., 
658-70. 

Bidwell,  Ten.,  writings  of,  603. 

Biography,  Cent.  Auier.,  471;  Mex., 
509-10. 

Blackstone,  quotation  fi  tm,  285. 

Blake,  W.  P.,  survey,  etc.,  of,  1863, 
619. 

(756) 


750 


INDEX. 


Bocanogra,  works  of,  5().'>,  579. 

liuriiemaa,  M.,  writiiig.s  of,  ti34. 

Biiafau.i,  Friar,  'Cliiiiigchinich,' 596. 

Koswell,  J.,  works,  etc.,  of,  130. 

Hntello,  writings  of,  G()3. 

Hi)iirbourg,  15.  de,  works  of,  458,  400. 

liowmaii,  J.  1''.,  writiiifrs  of,  G45. 

liraniiaii,  S.,  tlie  'California  Star,' 
5!)()-7. 

Iliook !,  A.,  mention  of,  144. 

Kiooks,  H.  S.,  'California  Mountain- 
eer,'GOO. 

Brooks,  N.,  writings  of,  598,  (533. 

Hrownu,  J.  K.,  wntin;;s  ol,  019,  641. 

Btichard,  Father,  mention  of,  025. 

Buckle,  H.  T.,  works  of,  89. 

Biiddliisni,  398-9. 

BiifFum,  E.  (}.,  writings,  etc.,  of,  605. 

Bulwer,  quotation  from,  144. 

Burlingauie  treaty,  mention  of,  262. 

Burnett,  (tov.,  writings  of,  01'2,  02'2. 

Burton,  Mrs,  '  Don  Quixote, '  038. 

Biisch,  >!.,  'Harry  riowortiokl,' 63.3. 

Bu-itamaute,  C.  M.,  works  of,  540, 
549-50,  590,  OCT. 


Calderon,  F.,  works  of,  566. 

t'alileroii  y  Beltran,  h\,  dramas  of, 
580-1;  biog.,  580. 

California,  progress  of,  51-2;  future 
of,  53;  gold  digging  in,  1848,  54-5; 
migration  to,  184-5;  race  elements 
in,  185-200;  religion  in,  190;  future 
races  of,  201 -t;  climate,  '202;  char- 
acter of  population,  1849,  205-34; 
newcomers  to,  206-12;  temptations 
in,  209;  religion,  '209-10,  219-20; 
class  distin>,Jons,  210-11;  absence 
of  restraint,  211-12;  gold  hunting 
in,  214-17;  labor,  222-4;  trafHc, 
etc.,  224-5;  association,  2'26-7; 
women  of,  232-3;  di.slike  to  for- 
eigners in,  '237-8,  '244-5,  '271;  the 
Chinese  question,  239-78;  Kuropo- 
aiisin,  241-4;  Irislimen,  243-6;  labor 
needed  in,  277  9;  trial  by  jury, 
'295-302;  Chinese  in,  309-418;  lit- 
erature, etc.,  591-668;  oratory, 
025-7. 

Oaniargo,  writings  of,  19. 

C.imden,  Lord,  motto  of,  283, 

Campbell,  T.,  indifference  of  to  fame, 
180. 

Cimprodon,  'Flor  de  un  Dia,'  5S'2. 

Caflas,  J.  do,  cules,  etc.,  of,  475-6. 

Curloton,  C,  see  Wright,  \V. 

Carlyle,  T.,  quotations  from,  13;i,  173. 


Carpio,  M.,  works  of,  57.V5;  biog.,  57.5. 

Carr,  E.  S.,  '  Patrons  of  Husbandry,' 
620. 

Carrillo,  works  of,  590. 

Carrington,  .S.  C,  the  'Record-Union,' 
599. 

Carson,  'Early  RocoUrctions,'  005. 

Castellauos,  E.  1'.  de,  poems  of,  473- 
4,  576. 

Castillo,  F.  del,  works  of.  .500. 

Castro,  F.  de,  'La  Octava  Maravilla,' 
521. 

Castro,  J.  A.  de,  'El  Triumfo  del 
Silencio, '  521. 

Castro,  M.,  writings  of,  602. 

Cavo,  woi'ks  of,  509. 

Central  America,  literature,  etc.,  of, 
45.") -80,  540. 

Charts,  fece  Maps. 

Cliinatown,  descript.  of,  318-418. 

Ciiinese,  objections  to,  240,  '245-52, 
'205-6;  labor  of,  '240-1;  wages,  '241; 
tliscrimiiiatioii  against,  '252-3;  use- 
fulness of,  '253-4;  complaints 
against,  254-5;  the  Burlingamo 
treaty,  202;  denunciation  of,  267; 
persecution,  '271-3;  as  factory  op- 
eratives, 273-5;  rirst  arrival  of, 
309;  new  coni(u\s,  .309-10;  children, 
310;  dress,  311-13;  queues,  313; 
barbers,  314;  characteristics,  314- 
17.  353-5;  dislike  of,  317-18;  budd- 
ings, 318-19;  stores,  319-21;  gam- 
bling-dens, 3l2,  377-80;  streets, 
322-3;  overcrowding,  3'23-4;  squa- 
lor among,  3'25-9;  homes,  .327-8; 
food,  329-30;  restaurants,  330-5; 
opium-dens,  335-7;  sign  boards, 
337-9;  business  system,  3119-43; 
laborers,  34.3-5;  gardeners,  345; 
operatives,  34,5-8;  laundries,  348-9; 
rag-j;ickers,  351;  tislieries,  .349-50; 
servants,  350-1;  artists,  352;  pros- 
titutes, 355-7;  festivals,  357-60; 
new  year,  3.")8-65;  the  drama,  .360- 
77;  conqiauies,  380-2;  higlibinders, 
3S2;  oaths  administ.  to,  382-3; 
diseases,  383-5;  medicines  386-8; 
physicians,  388-90;  hospitals,  390; 
funeral  rites,  etc.,  391-0;  religion, 
397-101;  temples,  401-13;  worship, 
411-13;  omens,  413-14;  spiritual- 
ism, 41  1-15;  fortune-tellers,  415- 
17;  exorcism,  417-18. 

Chorley,  story  of,  143. 

Christianity,  discussions  on,  609-753. 

'Chronicas  do  la  Provincias,'  .504-5. 

Church,  literat.  in  Mux  ,  481-2;  in 
Cal.,  010-17,  0*2'2-4;  influence  of  on 
literat.,  048. 


INDEX. 


757 


of, 


18. 
145-52, 

8;  usu- 
I  plaints 
iugamo 
3f,  'J07; 
ory  op- 
val    of, 
liiUlreu, 
a,    313; 
!s,  .SM- 
buM- 
gani- 
stroets, 
;   stpia- 
.S'27-8; 
330-5; 
l)()arcls, 
3;19  43; 
s,     34.-.; 

;us-n; 

.-540-50; 
pros- 

357-01); 

ui,  30  J - 
iiidurs, 
38:-3; 
3S6-S; 

Is,  300; 
•ligioii, 
orship, 
)iritu:il- 
s,   415- 


r.f.9  753. 
r.04-5. 
i\-'2;  in 
Lue  of  uu 


Cicero,  quotation  from,  292. 

Cisiiuros,     J.    A.,     plays,    etc., 
581. 

Civilization,  remarks  on,  8-10,  87-8. 

Clark,  J.  F.,  writing-^  ot,  G34. 

Clavigoro,  works  of,  24,  508,  (i(j3. 

Clumciis,  8.  L.,  works  of,  040-1. 

ClifTord,  J.,  writings  of,  000,  032-3. 

Climate  of  Cal.,  202. 

Clyde,  C,  writings  of,  645. 

Collins,  .J.  A.,  niuntion  ol,  (i20. 

Colton,  W.,  writings  of,  5y(j,  059. 

Commerce  in  Cal.,  224-5. 

Compass,  the  elloct  of  diseov.,  83. 

Conile  y  Oquendo,  works  of,  534. 

<.!onfucianism,  .■}97-S. 

Contrera,  1'.,  'Castigode  Dios,' 582. 

Coollirith,  I.,  writings  of,  000,  045. 

Ctiiiperatiiin,  remarks  on,  431,  451-4. 

Corporations,  princii.les,  etc.,  t)f, 
432-3;  ahnsos  hy,  433-43;  rcstric- 
tioiLs  on,  435,  440. 

Cortes,  l^l.,  M'ritings,  etc.,  of,  lo-17, 
401-2,  502,  Ool. 

Cortina,  (1.  de  la,  works  of,  558,  590. 

Cosa,  chart  of,  Oi)7. 

Cousin,  M.,  quotations  from,  9i,  100. 

Covarrul)ias,  1).,  works  of,  558,  5()0. 

Co.x,  I.,  'Annals  of  Trinity  County,' 
018. 

Co.x,  Rov.,  mention  of,  025. 

Crcmonv,  Col,  writings  of,  COO,  Gil- 
Pi,  033. 

Criticism,  spliere  of,  113-14;  journal- 
istic, 114;  talent  in,  115;  super- 
abundance of,  115-10;  insincere, 
110  17;  cla.sses  of,  117-20;  preten- 
sion in,  121-2;  liypocri.sy  in,  124  5; 
motives  for,  125  0;  among  authors, 
l;.'0-8;  unfairness  in,  12S-.33;  irrel- 
evant, 129  31;  Icgitiurato,  134-5; 
standards  of,  I3S;  dramatic,  138-9; 
(pialilication.s  for,  i;{9-40;  plagiar- 
ism, 143  4;  style,  144  7. 

Crond)LTgiT,  .J.,  works  printed  by, 
etc.,  4SI-2,  531. 

Cruz,  J.  A.  I.  de  la,  biog.,  etc..  of, 
524-5,  53.".;  works  of,  525-S,  535. 

Cubus,  (r.,  works  of,  558,  5'.)0. 

Cuellar,  J.  de,  works  of,  5(il,  582, 
590. 

Cuevas,  G.,  writings  of,  ,''i5,3. 

Cummins,  A.  11.,  writing!  of,  G20. 


D 

Daggett,  'Rixror  Bar,'  033. 
'I'an  Do  t^liielle,'  see  Wright,  W. 
Dark  Age,  remarks  on  the,  47. 


Davidson,    G.,    'Marine    Mammals," 

020. 
Day,    Mrs  F.   H.,    the    'Hesperian,' 

000. 
De  Bray,  collection  of,  0G4. 
De  Foe,  D.,  works  of,  144. 
Delano    A.,    writings    of,    605,    637, 

041. 
Democracy,  progress,  etc.,  of,  83. 
De  Quincey,  criticisms  of,  118. 
Dcrl)y,  (i.  li.,  writmgs  of,  041-2. 
Despotism,    benefits,   etc.,   of,    287-8, 

427. 
Detter,  T.,  'Nellie  Brown,' 033. 
Diaz,   B.,   works  of,   14-15,  403,  502, 

Ool,  003. 
Diaz,  J.,   'Itincrario  de  Grijalva,'  14. 
Disraeli,  B.,  quotation  from,  135. 
Diioner,    P.   W.,    '  l^iist   Days   of   the 

Ri  public,'  0.34. 
Dorr,   11.  C,  writings  of,  645. 
Drama,    criticism   on  the,  l.'18-9;  Chi- 
nese, oO()  7;  litcrat.  of  the,  in  Mex., 

520-30;   577  84;   in  Cal.,  037-9. 
Draper,  I.  J.  \V.,  works  of,  89. 
Dress,  Chinesi..,  311-13. 
Duran,  works  of,  24. 
Duran,    Fatlier,    '  Historia   do  las  In- 

dias, '  507. 
Dwindle,    Judge,    'Colonial    History 

of  California,'  G18. 


E 


Edgerton,  H.,  mention  of,  626, 
Edwards,   W.   H.,  writings,  etc.,  of, 

020. 
I'.els,  Rev.,  mention  of,  025. 
Eti'vt,  remarks  on,  108-9. 
Eguiara  y   Eguren,  works  of,  512-13. 
Klliott,  Vt.,  qm)tation  from,  1.'54. 
Em'Tson,  R.  W.,  quotation  Iroin,  105. 
Ericiso,    'Suina  de  ( leografiii,'  001. 
F.ngland,  tiial  by  jury  in,  'J82-3. 
linnlishinen,    characteristics,  etc.,  of, 

185-0. 
Entliusiasm,  remarks  on,  174-5. 
K^calante,     F.     M.,     works    of,    572, 

583. 
Esclava,     F.    (I.,    works    of,    522  3, 

527. 
Flscudero,  C,  comedies,   etc.,  of,  582. 
Estee,  M.  M.,  mention  of,  (>2I. 
Kvans,  writings,  etc.,  of,  009. 
Europeans,      as.suniplion     tif,     241- '2, 

'257;  polit.  induence,  243-4. 
Ewer,   F.   C,   writings,  etc.,   of,   .WJ, 

023. 
Executions,  mode,  etc.,  of,  '288-9. 


768 


INDEX. 


Fair,  L.  D.,  trial  of,  301-2. 
Paiiie,  remarks  on,  179-81. 
Piiriiiiain,  Mr;^,  writings  of,  606. 
Fulton,  J.  B.,  eloquence  of,  620. 
Ferguson,  W.  S.,  mention  of,  620. 
Festivals,  Chinese,  357-66. 
Fiction,    demand     for,     9.'}-4;     Mex. 

writers    of,    559-61;    Ual.    writers, 

«-'7-42. 
Field,  M.  H.,  writings  of,  645. 
Field,  S.  J.,  writings  of,  613. 
Field,  Mrs,  writings  of,  645. 
Figueroa,  Gov.,  'Manifesto,' 595. 
Fine,  O.,  map  of,  667. 
Fislier,  W.  M.,  writings  of,  610. 
Fitcli,  (}.  K.,  writings  of,  598. 
Fitoli,  T.,  eloqucnue  of,  6'20. 
Flores,  M.  M.,  works  of,  567. 
Fontanelle,  quotation  from,  91. 
French,  characteristics,  etc.,  of,  196- 

8. 
Friar,  Presbyter,  writings  of,  522. 
B'rouiie,   A.,  tlieory  of,  89;  quotation 

from,  94-5. 
Fuuntus  y  Guzman,  works  of,    466, 

479. 


O 


Gage,  T.,  'Now  Survey,'  003. 
Giillardo,  A.  L.,  works  of,  507,  582. 
Galio,  '  Hoiid)re3  Ilustres,'  556. 
Gaily,  works  of,  633. 
Gal  van,   1.   K.,  works  of,  565-6,  578- 

9,  583;  biog.,  579. 
Gambling,  Gliinese,  32'2,  377-80;  evils 

of,  420-1. 
Gainboa,     F.    J.,    biog.    of,    514-15; 

works,  515,  5.34. 
Gaoiia,  J.  de,  works  of,  524. 
Garcia,  '  Origin,' ()()4. 
George  H.,  'Progress   and  Poverty,' 

598,  020-1. 
Germans,     cliaracteriatics,    etc.,     of, 

193. 
Gibl)on,  quotation  from,  146. 
Gil»l)s,  G.,  writings  of,  620. 
(ril)iiey.  Father,  mention  of,  625. 
Gibson,  Rev.,  writings  of,  610-11. 
G  ll>urb,  writings  of,  598. 
Gillies,  quotitions  from,  142-3. 
Giinunez,  'Eu-^nyos   Magneticos,' 546. 
Ghwoock,  M.  W.,  works  of,  6.33-4. 
Gleeson,  W.,  'History  of  the  Catholic 

Church  in  California,' 610-17. 
Go-nara,  works  of,  21-2,  402-3,  601. 
Gonzales,  G.  (i.,  'Teatro,' 004. 
Goodman,  J.  T.,  writings  of,  645. 


Goodman,  L.,  writings  of,  645. 
Gordon,  G.,  eloquence  of,  6'20. 
Gorham,  writings  of,  598. 
Gorostiza,  M.  E.  de,  plays  of,  577-8; 

biog.,  577-8. 
Granico,  R.,  see  Steele. 
Gray,  Rev.,  mention  of,  625. 
(jray,  T.,  criticisms  of,  127. 
Gray,    VV.,    'A    Picture    of    Pioneer 

Times,' 609. 
Grayson,  writings  of,  6'20. 
Grey,  Father,  mention  of,  625. 
Grey,  'Pioneer  Tinies,'  633. 
(Jryneus,  map  of,  667. 
Guard,  Rev.,  mention  of,  626. 
Guatemala,  literature  of,  464-71. 
Guilds,   founding,  etc.,  of,  430;  hist. 

of,  4.30-1. 
Gunpowder,  eflFect  of  discov.,  83. 
Gutierrez,  M.,  'Una  para  Todo3,'583. 
Gwin,  Senator,  writings  of,  603. 


Hakluyt,  works  of,  662. 
Hall,  v.,  works  of,  618. 
Hallam,  criticisms  of,  142. 
Halleck,  H.  VV.,  works  of,  621. 
Hamertou,    quotations    from,    131-2, 

172,  177. 
Hart,  .1.  A.,  the  '  Argonaut, '  599. 
Hart,  B.,  writings  of,  GOO,  031-2,  637, 

642-0;  biog.,  031-2. 
Hazlitt,    W.,    criticisms    of.    117-18, 

127-8. 
Helps,  Sir  A.,  quotation  from,  179. 
Hemphill,  Rev.,  mention  of,  626. 
Herrera,  works  of,  2'2-3,  404,  ()03. 
Herrera    y    Rueda,    L.    A.    do    O., 

'  Poema  Sacra, '  522. 
Hetlieringtoii,  trial,  etc.,  of,  297-9. 
Higginson,  quotation  from,  141. 
History,  relation  of  poetry  to,  70;  of 

mythology,    70-7;    of    philosophy, 

78-9-   of   war   and   politics,  79-80; 

of  monarchy,   81-4;  of  govt,  84-5; 

general  field  of,  85-0;  civilization, 

87-9;     writers     of,    89-90;       hist. 

metlioil,  92-3;  appreciation  of,  93; 

facts  and  ideas  in,  94-5;  exnggera- 

tion  in,  95-6;  the  religious  clement 

in,   90-100;  traditions,   97-8;    bias. 

100-1;    qualifications    for   writing, 

103-8;    social  phenomena,    109  12; 

Cent.  Amer.  writers,  400-9;   Mex. 

writers,  502-8;  Cal.  writers,  601-3, 

612-18. 
Hittell,  J.  S.,  writings  of,  598,  004, 

017-18,  622,  380. 


INDEX. 


769 


Hittell,  T.,  works  of,  606,  621. 

Holder,  Ct.,  (juotatiou  from,  102, 

Howard,  v.,  mention  of,  G26. 

Howe,  C.  E.  li.,  'Joaquiu  Murieta,' 
637-8. 

Hudson,  on  railroad  abuses,  442-4. 

Hudson's  Bay  Co.,  treatment  of  In- 
diana by,  07-8. 

Ilnlsins,  collection  of,  664-5. 

Humanity,  study  of,  88-9. 

Humboldt,  A.  von,  works  of,  665-6. 

Hume,  works  of,  102. 

Hurtado.  A.,  plays  of,  583. 

Hutcliintr.s,  J.  M.,  'California  Maga- 
zine,' 599, 


Icazbalceta,  collection  of,  5.37. 
Iglesias,  Mitiister,  'Kevistas,' 552. 
J  jams.  Rev,,  mention  of,  625. 
Indians,  treatment,  etc.,  of,  65-74. 
Institute  Nacional,  founding,  etc.,  of, 

1833,  538. 
Irish,  in  Cal.,  196;  polit.  influence  of, 

243-4;    compared  with   Chinamen, 

245-6,  257-8. 
Irish,  J.  P.,  the  •Alta,'599. 
Irving,  VV.,  on  Columbus'  voy.,  91-2. 
Italians,      characteristics,     etc.,     of, 

199. 
Ixtlilxochitl,  works  of,  19,  496. 


<Tapan,  visitors  from,  1860,  318. 

Jerrold.  1).,  story  ot,  102. 

Jewell,  Ruv.,  sermons  of,  625, 

Jews,  in  Cal.,  199-200. 

Jiminez,  works  of,  473. 

Johnson,  Dr,  criticisms  of,  126;  quo- 
tation from,  134. 

Jones,  E.,  the  'California  Star,' 
597. 

Journals,  criticisms  in,  114-43;  of 
Cent.  Amer.,  470-1;  names,  etc., 
of,  480,  484,  532-3,  540-1,  545,  59G- 
601,  659. 

Jovius,  P.,  writings  of,  102. 

Juarros,  works  of,  466-8. 

Judges,  trial  by,  304-8;  election,  etc., 
of,  306-7;  qualitications,  307-8. 

Juries,  origin  of  trial  by,  281;  un- 
necessary, 282,  304;  in  England, 
282-3;  arguments  for  and  against, 
286-.S07;  functions  of,  289;  disqual- 
ifications,  289-91;  errors,  29.3-302; 
incapacity  of,  305-6;  system  of, 
oppressive,  SUiS. 


Kalloch,  Rev.,  mention  of,  626. 
Keeler,  R.,  writings  of,  632. 
Kellog,  Professor,  writings  of,  620. 
Kemble,  writings  of,  598. 
Kendall,  W.  A.,  writings  of,  645. 
Kewen,  Colonel,  eloquence  of,  626. 
Kimball,    C.  P.,  directory   of,    1850, 

604,  659. 
King,  (.'.,  writings  of,  600,  608,  619. 
King,  T.  S.,  sermons,  etc.,  of,  6-4, 626. 
Kingsborough,  Lord,  works,  etc  ,  of, 

6,  495-6. 
Kingship,  hist,  treatment  of,  81-4. 
Kip,  Bishop,  works  of,  623. 
Kirchotf,  'Reisebildes,'6IO. 
Kustel,  reports,  etc,  of,  619. 


La  Bruyfere,  quotation  from,  146. 

La  Harpe,  quotation  from,  96. 

Labor,  curse  of,  148-53;  enforced, 
148-9;  pleasant,  148-50;  rest  from, 
153;  necessity  for,  153-6;  subdi- 
vision of,  155;  benefits  of,  156-8, 
l(i4;  kinds  of,  159-60;  estimation 
of,  160-1;  excessive,  161;  perform- 
ance of,  162-3;  in  Cal.,  222-4;  re- 
marks on,  273-9. 

Lacunza,  J.,  works  of,  565. 

Land,  monopoly  of,  448-50;  distribu- 
tion of,  448-50;  taxation  of,  449-50. 

Landa,  Bishop,  works  of,  25,  400. 

Laiidivar,  R.,  'Rusticatio  Mexicana,' 
474. 

Languajre,  remarks  on,  65.3-5. 

Larrainzar,  works  of,  554,  5!)0. 

Larraflaga,  J.  R.,  transl.  of  V'irgil  by, 
531,  536. 

Las  Casas,  B.  de,  works  of,  20,  460, 
4(i2  3,  (Uil. 

Lawyers,  unscrupulousne.ss  of,  303. 

Lawson,  E.,  writings  of,  645. 

Lecky,  \V.  E.  H.,  quotation  from,  90. 

Legond.s,  mediieval,  109. 

Leon,  F.  R.  de,  works  of,  519,  534-5, 
571. 

I^on  y  Pinelo,  A.  de,  works  of,  512. 

Lo  Conte,  John,  writinu's  of,  (519. 

Le  Conte,  Joseph,  writings  of,  619. 

Libraries,  in  Mex.,  537-8;  iu  Cal., 
659-(iO. 

Lmen,  J.,  writings  of,  645. 

Literature,  as  a  voc.ition,  171-4;  jieri- 
o<1ical,  173-4;  «»■.'. iiusiasm  in,  174; 
recnmpunae  of,  177-8;  liter,  fame, 
179-81. 


750 


INDEX. 


Literature  in  California,  influences 
atfucting,  591-2,  (}47-58;  early, 
593(5;  period.,  5%-Gl)l;  hist,  and 
(lescript.,  601-18;  manuscript, 
601-.3,  012-13,  008-70;  churcii, 
010-17,  022-4;  scieutitic,  etc.,  019- 
21;  oratory,  025-7;  fiction,  627-37, 
639-42;  ilraniatic,  037-9;  poetry, 
642-6;  bibliog.,  058-08. 

Literature  in  Central  America,  condi- 
tions of,  455-7;  Maya,  458-9;  hist. 
and  descript,  400-9;  period.,  470- 
1;  biog.,  etc.,  471;  scientific,  472- 
3;  poetry,  473-8:  bibliog.,  478- 
80. 

Literature  in  Mexico,  colonial,  481- 
536;  early  eccles.,  481-501;  period., 
484-5,  510-3;  Nahua,  489-99; 
poetry,  498-9,  515-26,  561-77,  584^- 
7;  hist.,  502-8,  548-55,  661-4; 
biog.,  509-10,  555-6;  didactic,  510- 
11;  bibliog.,  511-13,  530-0,  589-90; 
dramatic,  520-30,  577-84;  niiscell., 
530-0;  modern,  5.37-90;  liter,  socie- 
ties, 538;  effect  of  revolution  on, 
539;  satire,  544-0;  scientific,  558; 
fiction,  559-01;  progress  of,  587-9; 
influences  affecting,  047-50;  voy- 
ages, 0t)l-2. 

Lizardi.  F.  de,  works  of,  545. 

i.iloyd,  'The  Lights  and  Shades  in 
San  Francisco,^  009-10. 

Ijobo,  M.,  works  of,  470-1. 

Logroilo,  'Manual  de  Adultos, '  482. 

Loomis,  Rev.,  writings  of,  010-11. 

Lyell,  Sir  C,  works  of,  109. 


M 


Macaulay,  T.  B.,  bias  of,  102,  127. 
Macdonald,  Rev.,  mention  of,  020. 
Mackenzie,  R.,  works  of,  0. 
Madalena,    Father  I.   de  la,    'Escala 

Espiritual,'  481-2. 
Magazines,  see  Journals. 
Mandeville,  Sir  J.,  theory  of,  89. 
Maneiro,  .1.  L.,  works  of,  510. 
Manufactures,    Chinese    competition 

in,  :W5-8. 
Maps,      Zeno's,     067;     Cosa's,    667; 

Ptolemy's,   667;    Fine's,  667;  CJry- 

neus',   607;  Agnese's,  007;    Merca- 

tor's,  667. 
Mariposa,  jury  trial  in,  1850,  296. 
Martinez,  J.,  writings  of,  553. 
Martyr,  P.,  works  of,  21,  001. 
Matcos,  J.,  works  of,  5.")9-00,  582. 
Mathews,    W.,    nuotationa  from,  91, 

l'25-6,  140,  177. 


Mayas,  civilization  among  the,  11-13; 

literat.  of,  458-01. 
McClellan,  R.  U.,  works  of,  004,  618- 

19. 
McUougall,  J.  A.,  mention  of,  626. 
Mc(;lashan,    '  History  of  tiie  Donner 

Party,' 012. 
McCowan,  '  narrative, '  607. 
McKinley,   'Brigham  Young,'  638. 
Medina,  B.,  writings  of,  500-7. 
Mendieta,  works,   etc.,  of,  23-4,  505. 
Merimee,  review  of,  133. 
Mestizo,  condition  of  the,  7.3. 
Mexico,     literature    of,     14-20,    457, 

481-590;  oratory  in,  513-15,  546-7. 
Mexico  City,  descript.  of,  27. 
Mier  y  Uuerra,   Doctor,  writmgs  of, 

548-9. 
Mill,  J.  S.,  quotation  from,  92;  story 

of,  179. 
Mill,  J.,  article  of,  17.3-4. 
Miller,  C.  H.,  writings,  etc.,  of,  600, 

04.3-4;  biog.,  043-4. 
Miners,  characteristics,  etc.,  of,  205- 

29. 
Mitford,  works  of,  92-.3. 
Monardes,  Dr,   '  Historia  Medicinal,' 

001. 
Money,   use,   etc.,  of,  50-03;  love  of, 

182-3;  treatment  of,  419. 
Monopoly,  evils  of,  419-40;  phases  of, 

423;   of  wealth,  424  0;    legitimate, 

428;  growth  of,  428  32. 
Montes<£uieu,  quotation  from,  146, 
Mora,  Doctor,  works  of,  541),  590. 
Morales,  .J.  B.,  works  of,  545. 
Moreno,  fables,  etc.  of,  583. 
Morgan,  L.  H.,  article  of,  1-15,  38. 
Morse,  J.  F.,  writings  of,  615. 
Morse,    J.    T.,    jr,    quotation    from, 

'201 -'2. 
Morure,  works  of,  469. 
Motolinia,  Father,  works  of,  503. 
Muir,  J.,  works,  etc.,  of,  019. 
Mulford,  P.,  works  of,  033,  041. 
Munguia,  works  of,  590. 
Mufloz,  '  Historia,' 003. 
Mythology,  relation  of  to  hist.,  76-7. 

N 

Nahuas,  civilization  among  the,  11, 
'27-38;  arts  of  the,  '27-31,  30-7; 
govt,  .31-2;  admiuist.  of  justice, 
32-3;  land  tenure,  33-4;  taxation, 
34-5;  commerce,  35;  marriage,  etc., 
3.5-6;  education,  36;  calendar,  37- 
8;  literat.,  etc.,  489-99. 

Napoleon  I.,  career  of.  82-.3. 

Nature,  laws,  etc.,  of,  15'2-5. 


INDEX. 


761 


Nivarett„',  M.,   works  of,  562-3. 

Nesbit,  writitigd  ot,  5!J8. 

Neiiiiiiiiii,    Mm,    'Poetry  of  the   Pa- 

citio, '  045. 
Njville,    C.    M.,  'Behind   tlie   Arra.s.' 

6.U-3. 
Newman,  Mrs,  wntiti.,'s  of,  G45. 
Nowspapcra,  suo  Journals. 
Nezahualuoytl,  Kin^;,  poems  of,  4'.>8-9 
Nishet,   .r.,  bioir.,  O.j!). 
Xol)le,  Riv.,  mention  of,  (12."). 
Nonlhotf,  C,  quotation  fi'o  u,  4-_'(i 
Norman,    L.,    'A   Youtii's   History    of 

California,'  (51(5. 
Novels,  see  Fiction, 


O 


Oclioa,  works  of,  540,  ')H0. 

Oehoa  y  Acuiiis,    A.    .M.,    works    of, 

,''"'7-8.  i 

O'.VIjira,  '  Broleriek  and  Ovviu,'  (Ji:? 
Oratory,    in    Cent.     Amor.,    47'-';      in  ! 

Mox.,   513-15,    541}  7;  in  Cal.    &2o- 

Or  loiioz,  works  of,  47:$.  \ 

OroxM  y  Bjrr.i,   works,  otc,   of,  553-  I 

4.  .V)S,  5,))  I,  58!;  l)iog.,  5'M.  ! 

Ort.igi.  F.,  'La  Venida,'.-)7I;   dramas  i 

ot,  57i)-8().  I 

O.-tiz,  L.  (}.,  works  of,  5(57.  i 

Ortiz,  T.,  writinir^  of,  553.  j 

Onio,  writinirs  of,  002.  i 

Oriedo,    works    of,   20-1,   4()0,  4(52  3,  ■ 

6131. 


Ril)lo.s,  J,  mention  of,  481. 

Pacheco  and  Carden.is,  collection  of 

(ii)(). 
Picitie  states,  migration,  etc.,  to  tlic, 

48-!);  pro^'ress   of,   51-2;   future  of, 

52  3. 
Pidilli,  1),  writings  of,  .507. 
Pa    .       M.,  works  of,  50(5. 
l'i'j[e.   .writings  of,  G'.)5. 
Pilioio,  R,  works  of,  .5,")<),  .")82,  0(il. 
Pilifox,  Bislifip,  mention  of,  5<'»0. 
Pilon,  F.,  works  of,  594. 
I'lrsoiis,  a.  F.,   mention  of,  59!). 
Pascal,  quotation  from,  140. 
Pitui;)re,  criticism  of,  142. 
I'lul,  .r.,  quotation    from,  96,  l.SO. 
Pb'laez,  worki  of,  4()S. 
Pjoa   y    Co.itroras,     '  Romances    His- 

toricos, '  571. 
P.>rilti,   '  N'oticias    Histori ens,' .'107-8. 
Peroz,  P.  J.,  writings  of,  573,  590. 


I  Pesado,  J.  J. ,  works  of,  569-70. 
!Phelp.s,      Professor,      '  Contenqiorary 
I      Biography,' ()i4. 
j  Piiillips,      Congressman,      story     of 
I      ■i'M.  >  J         , 

j  Phillip.s,  report.s,  etc.,  of,  619. 

Phdosphy,  relation  of  to  hist,  78  9. 

I'ico,  (Jov.  P.,  writings  of,  602. 

Piedrahita,  'Historia  (ienerai,'  6()3. 

I'ierpont,  Rev.,  nienti<m  of,  62."). 

Pimental,    '  llistoria  Critiea,'  543. 

Pineda  y  Polan.-o,  works  of,  472. 

Pixley,  F.,  writings  of,  598. 

Plagiarism,  remarks  on,  14.3  4. 

Piatt,  Rev,,  mention  of,  625. 
Poetry,  relation  of  to  hist.  76;  Cent. 
Amer.,    473-8;    Mex.,   498  9,    515- 
'2(i,  561   77,  584-7;  Cal.,  (i42-6. 
Poets,  as  critics,  ]2()-8,  141-2. 
Polities,  hist,  treatment  of,  79-80. 
Pollock,  F.,  writings  of,  645. 
'  Popnl  Vuh,'  descript.  of,  458-9. 
P(U-ter,  N.,  quotation  from.  9.3,  103  4. 
Powell,  I.  1.,  w  ritings  of,  604. 
Powell,  J.  .1.,  reports,  etc.,  of,  619. 
I  owell,    'Wonders,'  (i08. 
Powers,   S.,  writings  of,  611-12,  633. 
Prendergast,     Father,     mention     of,' 
625. 

Prcscott,  M'orks  of,  25. 
PrtJstou,  1,.,  woiks  oi,  635-6. 
Prieto,  <;.,  works  of,  572,  .')90. 
Prieto,  1.,  dramas,  etc..  of,  58,3. 
Piloting,  etieet  of  di.seov..  S3. 
Ptolemy,  maps,  etc.,  of,  661-'2,  667. 
Purchas,  '  Pdgrime.s,'  665. 


Qiiicln^s,  literat.  of  the,  4,')S-9 
|(t>uillam,  H.  'I(lcalina,'(jt.-). 
Quintana,  '  Meilitaiioncs.'  590. 
(Aunturo,  C,  works  of,  534. 


R 


Railroad  companies,  oliject  of  chart- 
ers   to,    435;     ahu.ses    hv,    4.35  43; 
good    control    of,    443  5;     refori,is 
suggested,  443-5;  r.  r.  commissions, 
444  5. 
Ramirez,  I.,  writings  of,  568. 
I  I'.imnsio,     'Navigationc    at    Viaui"  ' 
'      661   2. 

Riiii.h.lph,  E.,  writings,  etc.,  i,f,  GI4, 

626. 
'  Reylaineiito  Provincial.'  595. 
Keid,  H.,  writings  of,  018. 


7S2 


INDEX. 


Reli)^inn,  connection  of  with  hiatory, 

Uu-liH);  ot    ttic    t'liiiieae,    397-4U1; 

tliscussioii  on,  071-705. 
Keniu^jal,  worka  of,  464-3. 
Kuiituurunts,  Ciiinese,  330-5. 
Key,  E.,  i)liy8  of,  583. 
Uliclea,  VV.  H  ,  writings  of,  634. 
Kiuiiler,  .J.    P.,  quotations   from,  90, 

1.S5,  4'J5. 
KitlKe,  J.  R.,  writing.s  of,  645, 
Kipal.ia,  'Catecisino,'  595. 
Kivora,  M.,  worlis  of,  555,  590. 
Ki>l>in.s(>n,    A.,    'Life    in  California,* 

59(j,  059. 
Rodriguez  y  Cos,  '  Anahuac,' 509 
Rogers,  criticisms  of,  128. 
Roman,  A.,  the  'Overlanil  Monthly,' 

COO. 
Romero,  J.  M.,  '  Catecismo,' 595. 
Roo,  Q.,  works  of,  505. 
Rosa,  L.  de  la,  works  of,  572. 
Rosas  y  Moreno,  J.,  works  of,  546. 
Rousseau,  (jiiotittion  from,  196. 
Ruiz,  T.,  Verses  of.  509. 
Ruiz  y  liara,  eclogue  of,  475. 
Ruz,  J.,  mention  of,  590. 
Ryan,  R,  F.,  writings  ^f,  614. 


Sahagun,  Father,  'Historia  General,' 
19-20. 

Sainte  Beuve,  quotation  from,  1,  140; 
criticisms  of,  117-18,  129,  140. 

^alazar,  M.  P.,  works  of,  505. 

San  Francisco,  character  of  popula- 
tion, 229-33;  woman  in,  232-3; 
jury  trials  in,  295-302;  Chinatown, 
318-418. 

San  Jose,  Chinese  colony  at,  351-2. 

■Santacilla,  '  Oenio  del  Mai,'  540. 

Karitlana,  works  of,  572,  580. 

Sarria,  President,  sermons  of,  596. 

.Sartorio,  writings,  etc.,  of,  540-7, 
573. 

iSavagism,  remarks  on,  8-10. 

tSaxon,  1.,  'Five  Years  within  the 
(Johlen  Gate,' 010. 

Scammon,  writings  of,  600,  020. 

Science,  dogma  in,  99;  Cent.  Amer. 
writers  on,  472-3;  Mex.  writers, 
558;  Cal.  writers,  019-21. 

Scott,  Sir  W.,  'Lay  of  the  Last  Min- 
strel,' 142-3. 

Scott,  VV.  A  ,  works,  etc.,  of,  023-4. 

Si^gnra,  J.,  sonnets,  etc.,  of,  572. 

Segura,  v.,  verses  of,  572. 

Semple,  R,  the  'Califori.ian,' 596. 

Seon  y  Contreaa,  J.,  plays  of,  581. 


Seybongh,  writings  of,  598. 
Shakespeare,  works  of,  144. 
Shuck,  0.,  works  of,  014. 
Shirley,  Mrs,  writings  of,  G05-6. 
Sierra,  J.,  writings  of,  573. 
Siguenza,  works  of,  511,  521. 
■Jilva,  A.,  works,  etc.,  of,  572,  583. 
Simonton,  E.  A.,  writings  of,  045. 
Slavery,  ovils  of,  247-8,  200. 
Smith,  G.,    theory   of,   89;  quotation 

from,  JOO. 
Smith,  K.  D.,  writings  of,  036. 
'Sociedad  de  Geogratia,'  Oi.O. 
Solis,  A.  lie,  works  of,  22,  4S7,  663 
Soria,  F.  de,  comedies  of,  583. 
Sosa,  F.,  works  of,  555-0. 
Soule,  F.,  writings  of,  598,  645. 
Spain,  Ind.  policy  of,  OJ. 
Spaniards,     characteristics,    etc.,   of, 

198-9. 
Spanish   America,    treatment    of  In- 
dians in,  73. 
Spanish  Americans  in  Cal.,  187-8. 
Speculation,    remarks  on,   107;  evils, 

etc  ,  of,  420-22. 
Speer,  Rev.,  writings  of,  010-11. 
Spencer,    U.,    quotations   from,    137, 

285. 
Spiritualism,  Chinese,  414-15. 
Squier,  works  of,  400. 
Steam-engines,    eii'cct    of    invention, 

431 -'2. 
Stebhins,  Rev.,  mention  of,  025. 
Steele,  writings  of,  034. 
Stewart,    'Last    of   the  Filibusters,' 

000. 
Stillman,       'Seeking      the      Golden 

Fleece,' 611. 
Stoddard,    C.    W.,    writings   of,  000, 

045. 
Stoddard,    R.    H.,    quotation     from, 

179. 
Stone,  A.  L.,  'Memorial  Discourses,' 

6i;5. 
Stratton,  R.  B.,  writings  of,  006. 
Stratton,  Rev.  mentioii  of,  0.5. 
Stretch,  R.  H.,  writings  ot,  020. 
Style,  remarks  on,  144-7. 
Success,  remarks  on,  105-71. 
Sumner,  C.  A.,  mention  of,  C2G. 
Sutter,  Capt.,  writings  of,  003. 
Swett,  J.,  writings  of,  02.). 
Swift,  J.  F.,  works  of,  033,  641. 


Tagle,  S.  ne,  works  of,  504- -5. 
Talfourd,  Judge,  'Lm,'  143. 
Tanco,  B.,  works  of,  511. 


INDEX. 


763 


Taxation  of  land,  4^l9-".0. 
Taylor,  A.,  writings  ot,  614. 
Taylor,    Kev.    W.,    worka    of,    607. 

625. 
Tellez,  '  liatoj  Perdidos, '  569. 
Tollo,  '  Cioiiica  do  Jalisco,'  506. 
■  emples,  Chinese,  401-13. 
Terry,  Judge,  trial  of,  2U7. 
'  Teul'eUdrockh,' quotation  from,  163, 

174. 

Tliackeray,  VV.  M.,  quotation   from, 
135. 

Tlieatres,  Chinese,  367-73. 

Thirhvall,  worka  of,  92~:i. 

Thomas,  J.  B.,  mention  of,  625. 

Throckmorton,    Sir    N.,    speech    of. 
1554,  202. 

Timon,  '  Noticias, '  663. 

Tinkham,  works  of,  618. 

Tolaiul,  Dr,  lectures,  etc.,  of,  620. 

Tolaud,  M.  B.  M.,  works  of,  645. 

Tornel,  (i.,  mention  ol,  583. 

Torquemada,  works  of,  23,  486,  505- 
6,  (i63. 

Torvella,  '  El  Mulato,'  582. 

Tovar,  J.  (le,  works  of,  500-1. 

Tovar,  P.  works  of,  572. 

Traveller,  A.  C,   'Teachings  of  the 

Ages,' 622-3. 
Tradition,  in  history,  97-8. 
Trcbarra,  'Misterioa  de  Chan,'  560. 
Troncoso,  J.  N.,  mention  of,  545. 
Truman,  writings  of,  608,  6:i3. 
Turrill,  'California  Notes,'  608. 
Tutliill,  F.,    'History  of  California,' 

615-16;  death  of,  616. 
Twain,  M.,  see  Clemens,  S.  L. 


U 


United  States,  civilization  in,  51-3; 
treatment  of  Indians,  67-74;  hist, 
of  the,  85-6;  early  condition  of, 
235-6;  foreigners  invited  to,  '236-7; 
ill! migration  to,  239-40,  258  60; 
the  Cliinese  question,  239-78;  Afri- 
cans in,  256;  danger  of  overcrowd- 
mg,  260-1;  influence  of  foreijjiiers 
in,  268-9. 


Valencia,  J.,  '  Teressiada, '  523. 

Valle,  J.,  writings  of,  567. 

Vallejo,     Gen.,     writings     of,      595, 

()03. 
Van    de     Mark,    Rev.,    mention    of, 

(i.'6. 
Vazquez,  works  of,  465-6,  471,  480. 


Vela,  E.,  works  of,  528. 

Ver    Mehr,    'Checkered   Life,'  613- 

Verne,  K,  'Fidclite,' 6.^5. 
Vetancurt,  worka  of,  24,  506. 
Veytia,  works  of  496,  508. 
Victor,   Mrs  F.   F.,  writings  of,  600 

604,  613,  635-6,  645. 
ViUagra,     G.     de,     'Historia,'    520. 

663. 
Villalobos,  J.,  plays  of,  583. 
Villaseflor,  P.,   '  Eiicarnacion  Rosas,* 

579. 

Virginians,    characteristics,    etc.,    of 
191-6. 

Voyages,  collections  of,  661-2,  665-6. 

W 

Wadsworth,  Rev.,  sermons,  etc.,  of, 
625. 

Wakeman,  Capt.,  '  Log  of  an  Ancient 
Mariner,' 611. 

War,  hist,  treatment  of,  79. 

Water,  distr.bution  of,  450-1. 

Wealth,  pursuit  of,  421-2,  446-7. 
evils   of    excessive,   4'22-6;    allure- 
ments of,  4'25. 

Webb,    'Our   Friend   from  Victoria," 
638. 

Wentworth,    Mary,     see    Neumann, 
Mrs. 

VA'')iipple,  quotation  from,  422. 

Whitney,  A.,  'Almond-eyed,' 634 

Widney,  Judge,  'The  Plan  of  Crea- 
tion,'623. 

Wierzbicki,  F.  P.,  'California  as  It 
is,' 604. 

Willey,  Rev.,  'Thirty  Years  in  Cali- 
fornia,'613. 

Williams,  Rev.,  'A  Pioneer  Pas- 
torate and  Times,'  613;  sermons  of, 
625. 

Williams,  T.  T.,  Writings  of,  599. 

Woods,  Rev.,  'Recollections  of  Pio- 
neer Work,' 613. 

W(»rdsworth,  criticisms,  etc.,  of,  119. 
141.  .         -      ,        , 

WWth,  J.  .J.,  'A  Dissertation,' 601. 
Wright,  W.,  writings   of,    610,   636, 

641. 
Wright,  MrsW.,  writings  of,  642. 


Ybarra,  J.  de  P.,  mention  of,  470. 
Young,  J.  P.,  writings  of,  598-9. 
Yucatan,  literat.  of,  573. 


764 


IXOKX. 


Z 

Zalvadea,  traiisliitioii'i  of,  59i). 
Zriinaiois,  works  of,  54(i,  255. 
Zairiora,  J.  (1.,  plays  of,  583. 
Ziirco,  satires  of,  5(i'J. 
Zavala,  L.  de,  works  of,  541),  590. 


;  Zay.is  y  Eiiri(|Uoz,  jjlays  of,  583. 
{  Zeno,  map  of,  Oti7. 
]  ZcruL't'ro,  A.,  works  of,  549,  590. 
I  Zuinarragii,     Bishop    .t.,     l»iog., 
I      iconoclasiii  of,  494-5. 
Zurita,  A.  dc,  report  of,  17. 


449; 


4J<»; 


